Taming of Which Shrew?
by MOFOSTAN
Summary: At first all is seemingly normal in Wendy Testaburger's life, until someone finds out what is truly happening to her. When Cartman reads her diary and investigates her situation... will Wendy be able to heal from everything that will happen?
1. WARNING

**A/N: Um… so yeah… I have another account called PlagueRatsEA… the reason I'm not writing in that anymore is because I was absent for a long time and now I forgot the password for my account… and my email… so even if I send it to that email, I can't even get in the email…sucks right!**

**Despite that, I will not abandon my stories! Or at least some of them...**

**I will continue them here, by just posting up the chapters in this account. I'm starting from the beginning! If you want to read from the original account to check out some one fics from me, here's the link: ****h ttp : / ww w .fan fiction .net /s/6314267/1/Taming_of_Which_Shrew**

**Take out the spaces please! :D**

**Okay, so just click the next chapter and move on! :D**


	2. The lady doth protest too much, methinks

**A/N: Ok, so this is my South Park Fan fiction, that is greatly influenced by Shakespeare! Yay! Anyways, the title of this chapter is from his play**_**Hamlet**_**from Act III Scene II. I thought it would fit everyone in this chapter since Kyle, Bebe, and Wendy are mostly affected with toil and troubles. Although you'll see Cartman's fair share of repressed angst, and even a little Stan drama. *ku ku ku, evil grin* I might even make Tweek suffer too! Lol I'm such a sadist. Also the book Wendy is reading is called**_**The Taming of the Shrew**_**and it's really awesome.****Anyways, here's the URL for the chapter in (DA): .com/art/Taming-of-Which-Shrew-178801458**

**Nevertheless, I shan't keep you lovelies preoccupied for any further. Do enjoy thus laborious written story. ^_^**

_**Kath.**____Fie, fie! unknit that threatening un-  
>kind brow,<br>And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,  
>To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor:<br>It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,  
>Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair<br>buds,  
>And in no sense is meet or amiable.<br>A woman mov'd is like a fountain troubled,  
>Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;<br>And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty  
>Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.<br>Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,  
>Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for<br>thee,  
>And for thy maintenance commits his body<br>To painful labour both by sea and land,  
>To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,<br>Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and  
>safe;<br>And craves no other tribute at thy hands  
>But love, fair looks, and true obedience;<br>Too little payment for so great a debt.  
>Such duty as the subject owes the prince,<br>Even such a woman oweth to her husband;  
>And when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,<br>And not obedient to his honest will,  
>What is she but a foul contending rebel,<br>And graceless traitor to her loving lord?—  
>I am asham'd that women are so simple<br>To offer war where they should kneel for peace,  
>Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,<br>When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.  
>Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,<br>Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,  
>But that our soft conditions and our hearts.<br>Should well agree with our external parts?  
>Come, come, you froward and unable worms<br>My mind hath been as big as one of yours,  
>My heart as great, my reason haply more,<br>To bandy word for word and frown for frown;  
>But now I see our lances are but straws,<br>Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,  
>That seeming to be most which we indeed least<br>are.  
>Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,<br>And place your hands below your husband's  
>foot:<br>In token of which duty, if he please,  
>My hand is ready; may it do him ease.<em>

I flipped the page and read on to my favorite part.

_**Pet.**____Why, there's a wench! Come on, and  
>kiss me, Kate.<br>__**Luc.**____Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou  
>shalt ha't.<br>__**Vin.**____'Tis a good hearing when children are  
>toward.<br>__**Luc.**____But a harsh hearing when women are  
>froward.<br>__**Pet.**____Come, Kate, we'llto bed.  
>We three are married, but you two are sped.<br>'Twas I won the wager, [To LUCENTIO.] though  
>you hit the white;<br>And, being a winner. God ghe you good  
>night!<br>[Exeunt__PETRUCHIO and KATHARINA.  
><em>_**Hor.**____Now, go thy ways; thou hast tam'd a  
>curst shrew.<br>__**Luc.**____'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be  
>tam'd so. [Exeunt.<em>

I sink into my bed covers as I read over the last two pages over and over again. As soon as Kate starts her speech to as soon as Lucentio finishes his comment. My favorite Shakespeare play finally ends, unfolding me to act like fan girls squealing over a celebrity. She is dubbed as a wrench, a shrew, a strong-willed woman that no one can tame. Then after the ill-tempered Petruchio tries to tame her, she acts submissive, yet in fact she plays him by the palm of her clever hand and the shrew that was tamed was not her, and it was in fact him!

My phone starts to vibrate, snapping me from my fan girlish thoughts. I check the caller ID, Stan Marsh. I sigh as I check the message.

"hey babe did i give u my jacket or something? i cant find it! ;A;"

I try to retrace my thoughts, seeking any memories when Stan gave me the jacket. Nothing. I rise and trudge lazily to my closet just to make sure that he didn't give me his precious jacket. Nothing. I go back to the phone resting on my bed and text him back.

"Nope. Couldn't find anything. Sorry. ^_^"

I slump back to my bed sheets and start to close my book and put it on top of my drawer next to my bed when I hear (as well as feel) my phone vibrate again.

"TTATT im freaking out! i cant find it anywhere! HELP! TT-TT"

"XD maybe you left it in Kyle's house. You always leave everything there."

My phone vibrates once more. ":DD omg i didn't thought of that! that's why i love u babe! 3"

"I didn't THINK of that. Use grammar Stan. *rolls eyes* :P"

"Whatever XD"

I decided to leave the conversation at that before checking the time in my phone. It was 3:40 PM. I stared at the clock for a moment before realizing that Bebe had to go to the doctor and I had to be there for her. Holy shit, if I missed that, she'd never talk to me again! I slipped on my purple jacket and my pink barrette and my comfy jeans as quickly as I could. I ran downstairs and to the door before I heard my mom call out to me.

"Honey, take your glasses cleaner before you leave."

I checked my jacket pocket and realized I had two packs with me already. "Already got it, mom." I call out back to her before opening the door to leave.

I ran to Bebe's house which wasn't that far in the first place. I anxiously knocked the door before it swung open.

"What the fuck, Wendy! I've been waiting for fifteen minutes!" She yelled more nervous than angry.

"I'm sorry, I was reading _The Taming of the Shrew_ and then Stan texted me, and then I… I forgot. Sorry." I babbled on in a hurry.

Bebe rolled her eyes as she slipped on her coat and grabbed her car keys. "It's fine. Let's just go, we're late enough." We trudged quickly to her car in the front yard and got in, in a hurry. "How many times are you going to read that book, geez!" She said irritated as she turned on the ignition.

I simply shrugged. "It's my favorite book. Better than his most common play, _Romeo and Juliet_."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever, just ease my nerves. What if it comes out positive! What'll I do then!" She practically squeaked out in a terrified manner as she drove.

"Then you'll have the baby." I replied calmly.

"I can't do that! I'm only seventeen! I still have my whole life ahead of me."

"Then you'll have an abortion." I replied calmly.

"I can't do that, either! I'm NOT killing an unborn child!"

"Then you put it up for adoption." I reply calmly, but am getting a bit agitated.

"But what if the foster parents are abusers and they rape or beat the child and he comes back to me after eighteen years and curse the day I was born!"

"Goddamn it! What the fuck do you want me to say! You sound like Tweek Tweak!" I practically scream, causing her to flinch.

"I'm sorry, I just, don't know what to do." She was at the verge of tears when we came to a stop light.

I patted her back with my hand, trying my best to comfort her. "It'll be alright, okay, no matter what the doctor says."

Two weeks ago we attended a party at Clyde's house and he brought in alcohol. I refused to drink, but Bebe gave in after her crush (Kyle) started to drink for a bet he and Cartman had. I went to the bathroom and when I came back she disappeared in the large crowd. I stayed with Stan after I gave up trying to find her. Then after I saw Red slump around the wall I approached her and asked where Bebe had been. She said she was making out with Kyle in Clyde's bedroom. I rushed to the bedroom, worrying for the worst. As I swung the door open, I found my worries to be true. Kyle was on top of Bebe and his zipper down and her skirt up. Drunk and horny, they lost their virginity that night.

Two days ago, Bebe started to worry that she might have been pregnant. She bought two pregnancy tests and peed on both of them. Both coming out positive. Now she was anxious to go to the doctors, hoping it wasn't true. When we arrived to the waiting room, we immediately saw Kyle tapping his feet and sitting on the edge of his chair nervously. When he spotted us, he approached us anxiously, his eyes half wild.

"The doctor called you like two minutes ago." He says, speaking directly to Bebe.

Bebe tugged anxiously at her hair and nodded looking distantly at the ground. She turned to me with tears in her eyes. "Can you come with me!"

I nodded and followed her into the doctor's office, leaving a stressful Kyle to himself. After waiting endless minutes for the doctor to enter after completing the procedure with the results, he sat in his stool.

Bebe gave my hand a squeeze (which I held for her support) before asking the doctor, "Well, what did the results say?"

He sighed. "Congratulations, you're pregnant." He said, non enthusiastically.

Tears ran down Bebe's eyes and she broke in sobs. Bebe wasn't a slut, nor was she prone to promiscuity. This was a one night mistake, she didn't deserve this. The poor thing's life was practically ruined.

After emerging out of the office and into the waiting room, Kyle abruptly sat up, anxious for the results. Bebe was still crying and she nodded her head and clutched her stomach.

"Jesus Christ, it came out positive didn't it!" He shrieked.

I nodded solemnly. "Sorry."

Later on that night, after I finished calming both Bebe and Kyle, I reread my favorite text in _The Taming of the Shrew_ before going to sleep. My last thought was that I hope Bebe and Kyle do okay. The next morning I woke up by my phone alarm and arose from my bed sheets. I spread my arms outwards and yawned dramatically, although there was no one to be dramatic to. I lazily threw my sheets away from my body so that I could walk to the bathroom. I took a towel with me and turned on the bath water. The water ran warm against my back as I applied the shampoo along with the gathered instructions. Apply, rinse, repeat. The old cliché linked into shampoo. Afterwards I dried myself up and stepped out of the shower. I had forgotten to bring my clothes so I simply wrapped a towel around my body to shield myself from exposure. As I sneaked my way out of the bathroom, I saw a dark figure from the corner of my eyes. Shit.

I cocked my head rapidly (so rapidly that I almost gave myself a neck cramp) to my side to find James standing with his arms crossed, glaring at me to the fullest degree. I instinctively covered myself (although I was sure that I wasn't showing) and yelped in shock.

"Jesus Christ, James!" I felt my face grew in shock and horror.

"Where's your mother?" He said, unmoved and monotone.

"She went to that business trip."

"When do you go to school?" He asked, still unwavered.

"At 7:20. Why?" I begin to grow suspicious.

"It's 5:37. Why wake up that early?" Is he interrogating me? Why? I'm not even his daughter!

"Because I like to go to the library before school." I lied. I wanted to meet Stan, Bebe, Kyle, and Tweek before school started in front of the bus stop.

"So it wouldn't matter if you didn't go to the library?" Right then I noticed something strange shift in James's eyes. Something that terrified me and made my heart quiver in tortured fear. What was he getting at?

"Can I please just go to my room. I need to change into my school uniform. Exams are next week, and I wanted to study at the library." I say, nervously.

He grinned a smirk that chilled me to the bone and paralyzed me in place. He came closer to me and stood just inches above my face and I saw his eyes travel down the creek of my chest. Why couldn't I move! "Of course." He said slyly and slid past me like a snake. Then I felt something tug at my towel and the fold I had made to keep it in place slightly unraveled. I gasped sharply as his finger tugged at the edge of my towel as he continued to move as if nothing was happening. For fear of my skin exposing, I desperately reached for it but was too late. The towel was tugged just enough that my left breast showed and as well as my thighs and ass. I felt tears well up in me as I saw him slightly and slowly cock his head back to casually sneak a peek and smirk in victory. I squealed in terror and tugged the towel back to cover myself and ran as quickly as I could to my room and immediately locked the door.

This had never happened before. James was always strange, but he had never gone this far! James was my mother's husband. I had met him when I was twelve, a year and a half after my parents divorce. He had been a wonderful man, in front of my mother that is. Though when she turned away to elsewhere, he would glare and scoff at me as I was nothing. Lately, since I turned fifteen to this day when I am sixteen and a half, he has been acting odder and odder. He's an author so he stays home, and when he stays home and my mother is at work, it always follows the same pattern. In the morning he ignores me until I sit at the table to eat breakfast. Then he stands behind me, lingering in a heavy atmosphere. If I dare to turn back, he starts to play with my hair. If I dare to ask him why he stands so close, he comes closer till his lips are almost touching my ears. Then he whispers "Because I can." And then he just walks away, leaving me frightened and scared out of my wits. Then as I leave, he turns on the fan on high and spinning mode, so that when I try to walk by to the door, my school skirt flies up.

Then in the afternoons when I return and my mother still isn't home from work, he greets me with a hug. Just touching him makes my skin crawl, and to make matters worse he tends to grope me when he hugs me. Then as I am studying or completing my assigned homework, he lingers with that same heavy atmosphere at the edge of my door and simply stares at me all the while. If I dare look back he stands closer to me so, that he brushes against my back (since I have a stool for a chair, instead of an actual desk chair). If I dare to try to move to another location, he follows close by, with the excuse that he is supervising me. Then when my mother comes home, he acts like a concern and caring father, until he is alone with me. Also I sometimes cannot find my under garments. For example, I lost two of my bras the other day and I searched all over the house, then finally I dared to sneak inside of James's study room to find them stuffed in a drawer.

That man is sick, but he has never harassed me THIS much! This night, I will ask Bebe, Kyle, Stan, and Tweek to sleep over. First of all, he acts normal around everyone but me, even my friends. Secondly, you'd think inviting Bebe would be enough, but no. I need a male in the house, since my mother is out on a business trip for the entire week. Now that the Bebe/Kyle drama has already happened, I'm sure that they both would come as a pair. Wherever she goes, he'll be sure to follow. Also I cannot invite Kyle without inviting my boyfriend. One that would be relationship suicide, two their best friends, so it's alright. I also decided to invite Tweek, since he can NEVER sleep, therefore making it impossible for the chance for James to sneak in (since Bebe and Stan are heavy sleepers, and Kyle… well I'm not sure, but just to be safe). I need to keep someone in the house at all times, at least until mother comes back. She had told me not to go over a friend's house while she was gone, but she never said NOT to invite friends over.

As I finished dressing as quickly as I could I gather my things and back pack and took a deep breathes before unlocking the door. I abruptly opened the door, and practically ran out without a word to the surprised, yet oddly pleased James left behind. I even skipped breakfast, terrified on what he will attempt on me this morning. I ran till I reached the familiar bus stop, which I started to wait for the bus there with Stan when we started Junior high in the seventh grade. I saw Tweek, Kyle and Bebe (of course), Stan, and even Cartman waiting. I stopped and caught my breathe, panting as I miserably tried, and casually walked next to Stan and Tweek.

"Hey, babe." Stan said cheerfully, until his face fell.

"What?" I asked nervously.

"Is something wrong?" Stan asked, concerned.

"Yeah, you, nggh, look scared! GAH! Jesus Christ what if the, argh, FBI is chasing you! MAN I DON'T WANT THE FBI TO KILL, ack, WENDY!" Tweek rambled.

"You look as pale as a ghost, bitch." Cartman stated.

"I-it's nothing. Just feeling a bit sick this morning." I smiled reassuringly (ignoring Cartman calling me a bitch since I was still shaken up about this morning's… "incident").

"You sure, honey?" Bebe asked.

I laughed, as normally as I could at the moment. "Sure, I'll be fine by lunch."

Stan wrapped his arms around me and then turned to Kyle. "So what did you two want to say?"

"Well I was going to wait till Kenny showed up, but seeing as he's dead… again, I guess we'll tell him later." Kyle said looking at the floor and scratching his neck.

"Tell us what?" I asked curiously, trying to take my mind off of everything.

Kyle turned to Bebe. Bebe sighed before saying, "I went to the doctor with Kyle and Wendy yesterday."

Tweek, Stan, and Cartman exchanged glances to Kyle, Bebe, and me.

"Wait, you're gonna tell them!" I said.

Kyle shrugged.

Cartman impatiently shouted, "Just tell us already you Jew rat!"

"Jesus Christ! What if, nggh, Bebe mysteriously got AIDS! GAH! And then she'll have to inject all her m-money in her and, ack, become poor and will have to live on the streets, n-ngh, and sell herself so she can afford food. Then she'll get , GAH!, pregnant and she'll become addicted to abortions!" He scrambled in front of Bebe and put his hands on her shoulders and shook her vigorously. "I'LL LEND YOU MONEY, BEBE! JUST DON'T BECOME ADDICTED TO ABORTIONS!"

Bebe had her eyes wide open and a confused expression in her face. "I-I don't have AIDS, Tweek."

Tweek sighed in relief.

Then Kyle spoke up, embarrassed and quietly. "One out of six of those happened, though."

Everyone except me and Bebe turned wide eyes at Kyle. "Holy shit dude!" Which one!" Stan said, a little too loudly.

"She went to the doctors, so injecting money and becoming poor and selling herself is out of the question. And since AIDS is out too, it's one of the other two." Catrman spoke up. That damn, perceptive fatass. "And since you'd have to be pregnant to have abortions, the hoe is most likely pregnant."

"WHAT! HOLY TAP DANCING CHRIST!" Tweek screamed.

Bebe and Kyle shamefully looked at the ground. "We were drunk in Clyde's party." Kyle practically whispered.

Stan had his mouth gaped open, looking back and forth at Kyle and Bebe. Tweek was blubbering like a crazed psycho; something about Bebe and Kyle not being able to afford the baby and having to join the mafia and Kyle is a drug dealer mafia, while Bebe is his wife, and the baby will play with guns at the age of five. And Cartman was all too amused to be concerned (if he had the capability to have feelings). While I was staring worryingly at them.

"Dude!" Stan said, having all he could muster up.

Cartman let out a chuckle. "Ay guys, imagine the kid ends up looking like Kahl's bitchy mom! That'll be so hilarious!"

"Shut up about my mom, fatass!" Kyle nearly lunged himself at Cartman before being held back my Bebe and Stan.

"Dude calm down!" Stan said, uneasily.

Cartman continued chuckling, looking even MORE amused. "What Kahl? You're gonna get the kid's umbilical cord out of Bebe and choke me with it?"

Bebe's mouth opened in disgust and Kyle yelled, "YOU FUCKING DIE, FATASS!" As he kicked Cartman in the nuts.

Cartman fell on his knees face twisted in pain, while Bebe, Tweek, Stan, and even myself started to uncontrollably laugh as Kyle pouted in the background.

The bus finally arrived and we headed inside.


	3. No less than I seem?

_First Entry, 2010, May 9th_

_Dear Diary,_

"_I profess myself to be no less than I seem." Act one scene four of King Lear. The part of the story when Kent (in disguise) is talking to King Lear._

_That saying does not apply to me. I_am_much less then I seem. I am student council president of South Park High. I am in the National Honor Society, and am vice president of it. I do charity work and help in the local church during summers. I do my homework everyday, hoping to get a full scholarship that I am already being offered by colleges. I read constantly, hoping to gain knowledge from stories that my mother or others could never teach me. I attend the debate club weekly and won five competitions for our school. I have a perfect body and gain no weight, therefore all the boys gawk. I am the perfect student to my teachers, and the perfect daughter to my mother, I am the perfect best friend and the perfect girlfriend. I am best friends with the smart, capable, "it" girl who is adored in everyway (regardless of her current situation). I am friends with the most known and most involved in the town group in South Park. I am the girlfriend of the Cow's Quarterback and the all around average, and beloved male in our high school. I help the elderly in nursery homes, I read to children two years ago for community service. I was cheerleader in freshman and sophomore year, yet gave it up to study my last two remaining years for college. I am all that, yet that is only what I_seems_to be. In reality, I'm nothing._

_Yes, you read right, I'm__**nothing**__. I'm student council president of my high school, attend debate club, and am vice president of the NHS society only because people expected me to. I do charity work and help in nursery homes, and even read to children only because I am told to, because I have to for community service hours. I have a perfect body because I fear judgment from my boyfriend and mother and others. I am friends with these people because my boyfriend is, and I just interrupted their amazing group because they let me. I am best friends with the "it" girl because she somehow doesn't see my pathetic side, because I hide it. I am girlfriend of the Cow's quarterback because he fell in love with the side of me that I show, and not that side of me that I hide. The side of me that no one has seen, because if he did, then he wouldn't dare touch me, let alone date me. I was cheerleader because I was expected to be by my school, and gave it up for studying because I was expected to by my mother. I do homework everyday because I don't want my mother to know how much of a failure I really am, and I want her to be proud of me, to not regret having me, like he did. I read constantly because it is the only escape I have from this double life, from this mask of lies that I inflict on others, that they somehow buy into._

_In reality, I am__worthless__. I am__pathetic__. I am__shy__, despite the fact that I may seem outgoing. I am__self-conscious__, despite the fact that I seem confident. I am__**not**__confident. I am nothing of that sort. I am____a liar__, and I am nothing to be proud of. I only act as such mostly to make my mother happy, or for fear of rejection. I love the people around me so much. My mother is my__**heart**__. My friends are my__**soul**__. My boyfriend is my__**essence**__. My school life is my__**appearance**__. The hunger to know them all, and to see them laugh and cry, and live next to them day by day, that is my motivation,__**my drive**__. Without them, I am nothing. I_am_worthless, pathetic, shy, self-conscious, a liar, and nothing to be proud of__. I am absolutely, and utterly__**nothing**__._

_Who am I really? I am don't like to be student council president. I did as a younger girl, but I don't now that I am older. I now see that life is so much to live for. That being cooped up at home most of the time will lead me to miss all that passes by me. That I can_enjoy_life with others, yet people expect me to be so I am. They expect me to be as such and I oblige. I oblige because I don't want to disappoint. Who I am is a person who is scared of loosing all others who are dear to her. I don't want to disappoint the people who have given so much to me, and have thought of me when I seem sick, or whatnot. I could never live with myself if that were to happen. That is who__**I**__am. I am__not__smart, I am__not__pretty. Beauty comes from the soul, and if the soul is distorted, thus beauty be disturbed. My body is perfect, but my beauty is__not__. I do not stand out. Others who can wear jeans and a old beat up sweater and can still be seen as elegant, now that is beauty. Those, such as I, who can wear elegant dresses, and fine jewelry, yet seem gaudy, those are the norms. The people who don't stand out._

_My only goal in life, the only thing I ever wanted was to make others happy. To help others. I used to think that I didn't want to disappear in my life. Meaning that I didn't want others to forget me, because to live is to be remembered. I__**wanted**__to be remembered by others. To not loose my place in life, to not be just an existence that did not seem use to others. Now… now I feel lucky to be in the presence of others. To be embraced by their essence, to be_**near** _them. I am just lucky to bask in their glory. To live in their lives, to be an actor on their play. Even__**if**__I play the role that no one remembers, I am lucky enough to take part of it. As long as I see them smile, see them laugh, see them_**live**_then I could ask for nothing more. I could just cry from bliss, just to see them alive. People are so amazing, they are so precious. Each and every one of them. They are simply amazing. How could one hate any of them?_

I sat in my desk and stared in amazement at every single word I just read. Was that really Wendy's writing? Did I just read from Wendy's diary, or from a really low self-esteem person? What the fuck? This isn't the Wendy I knew and bothered. What the **fuck**! Here I thought I could take her precious diary and look for something that I could hold as blackmail. I mean I did it to everyone else over the years. That psycho wimp, Tweek. That pussy, Stan. That black asshole, Token. That crybaby faggot, Clyde. That monotone bitch, Craig. That pussy, faggot, bike-curious asshole, Butters. That poor piece of shit, NASCAR lover, Khenny. That pregnant slut, Bebe. That Jew, Kyle. Even our old teacher Mr. /Mrs. Garrison. And now I thought I could blackmail the perfect queen bitch, Wendy. But I find out she's _not_ a bitch, nor perfect. That she's really the most self-loathing person on earth, who puts everyone else on a pedestal except her? What. The. Fuck! Are you fucking serious!

I turn to her, snapping out of my astonishment to stare at her, copying notes from the board. I had her diary behind a textbook, and I sat at the corner of the room all the way in the back, so no one would notice. All that goes through my mind is: How many nights does she go through, crying herself to sleep? It must be more than four times a week, at minimum! This girl has such a low aspect of herself, it's terrifying. Yet, she seems so confident and irritatingly perfect that you could have never guessed. I learned a whole other Wendy, and this was the first entry. Frankly, I'm a bit scared to learn more, but my curiosity gets the better of me, and I start to read the second entry.

_**oOo**_

It was time for lunch and I scurried unto my boyfriend's side in the hallway.

"Hey babe!" He smiled awkwardly.

At this point I noticed something off in, not only his gesture and expression, but tone and posture as well. "What's wrong?"

He sighed dramatically, "I'm still trying to get over the fact that my best friend is, like, I dunno… A FUCKING FATHER!" He flailed his hands up in the air.

I quickly covered his mouth in desperation and gave him a stern look. "Shhh! That's their business, not the whole god damn world's!" I said with a bit more bitterness than I intended.

The people passing by gave us strange looks, and I felt my face flush a bit. "Sorry." Stan said, crossing his arms in a pout.

I let my face fall into a smile as I giggled and said, "It's okay, just don't do it again. Our friends are important, and if they want to keep their personal lives a secret, then who are we to disrupt their orders?"

He shrugged, still pouting, though not as much. "I guess you're right." He said as he wrapped his arms around me as we headed towards the cafeteria doors.

There we saw Tweek, Kyle, Bebe, and Cartman already on the table with packed lunches, and some bought lunch. I had mines packed, but Stan had to buy his. So I gave him a quick peck on the lips as I headed to the table we usually sit in, while he headed to the lunch line, meeting up with some of his football buddies. I sat next to Tweek and in front of Bebe. Tweek was in front of Cartman, and Kyle sat over the end, perhaps trying to sway away from Cartman as much as possible. I don't blame him, especially after the fatass's crude cruelty this morning. Tweek was murmuring random conspiracies, Bebe was chatting with a distracted and nervous Kyle. And when I turned to Cartman, I noticed him staring at me, and when he noticed my glance at him, he violently cocked his head towards his food and continued eating. Weirdo.

The oddest part was that he seemed to have a sympathetic expression. An expression that seemed to want to lung out to my aid. How strange, especially considering the fact that he is an inconsiderate asshole seeking only his self gain and not caring of other's woe. Maybe I'm just imagining things. Maybe I'm going insane and am experiencing the first stages of dementia. I inwardly chuckle. It seems I'm hanging out with Tweek too much that I'm starting to have his train of thought. How the hell would I have dementia at the age of 17? Preposterous!

I try to coax Tweek as he vigorously gulps his coffee, until I notice Stan coming our way from the lunch line. He has a dazzling smile that nearly makes my heart quiver. He takes his seat next to mine as he kisses me gently on the lips. I am so fortunate to have him with me, to be a part of his life. He starts to eat a little too excited and I can't help but giggle at the site.

He turns to me with a suspicious, self-conscious face and asks "Whaf?" with noodles hanging lazily from his mouth.

I giggle again, a little harder. I take a napkin at my side and wipe his face. "You eat all too crudely, Stan. Don't eat too fast or you'll get heartburn, and don't talk with your mouth full of food."

"Don't use big words like crudely on me, Wendy." He jokes, as I laugh.

"Well don't go mothering the dumbass, Shakespeare-wannabe." I hear Cartman from the corner of my ear.

I turn to glare at him harshly, "Bite me, fatass."

"Don't say that Wendy, he'll take it as an invitation to eat you." Kyle jokes out of nowhere.

Burst of laugher are heard from all at the table, including myself. All is laughing hysterically except Cartman. "Shut the fuck up, kike!"

"Don't call me a kike, you bastard, son of a bitch!" Kyle retorts angrily.

I hear Stan sigh and turn to see his fingers pressing irritatingly the bridge of his nose.

"Before you go out on a full fledge war, I propose to change the subject on an invite." I intercepted.

"An invite?" Bebe asked.

"What kind?" Stan eagerly asked.

"Who wants to stay at my house tonight?" I asked cheerfully.

Without so much of a hesitation, Bebe stood from her seat and waved her hand eagerly as if I had the world's best candy and started squealing adoringly, "Me, me!"

I giggled and assured her the position to stay.

"Well if she's gonna go, then I'll come too." Kyle said.

"I wanna come!" Stan said, kissing my cheek, while I giggled.

"Jeez, I w-wanna come too! I mean, what if, nngh, you all forget me somehow, and kick me out of your group! GAH! That's _**WAAAY**___too much pressure, man!"

I giggle once more and nod, hugging him tightly. "You're so cute!" I practically fan girl scream over him. Stan says nothing, and no one either, since they all know Bebe and I go crazy over Tweek without any real "feelings" attached along with it. We see him as our cute little brother or son, or a little teddy bear, or whatnot. His random twitches and absurd assumptions are all too adorable.

"I know right!" Bebe agrees cupping her face with her own hands as if she had just seen the cutest little girl.

"I'm coming too, hoe." I heard Cartman say casually.

We all turn to him as he sips his milk. "Dude, you're not awesome enough to come, fatass." Kyle says.

"Fuck you kike!"

"I'm not a kike, you bastard, son of a bitch!"

"Guys, shut up! You just said the exact same insults in less than ten minutes, retards." Stan says, trying to keep his calm.

"Whatever." Cartman and Kyle say in unison.

"Fine, you can come too, fatass, but I warn you not to eat every thing in my fridge." I tease.

Cartman flips me off as I smile in triumph. It doesn't matter who comes, the more the better, so long as I have enough to assure my safety from James during the night, I'm fine. I just feel a bit sorry that I interrupted their lives for something like this. I just needed protection, I'm too afraid to sleep alone in the house with him, especially after the stunt he pulled this morning. Just thinking about that incident made me shutter.

_**oOo**_

I bet that bitch is just trying to victimize herself. Stupid hoe, she's not self-conscious, nor has low self-esteem. She's not shy either. She's still annoying as shit, but not shy. She just asked us all out to a sleep over at her house, what reason could a shy person do that? The fuck? Maybe she knew I would steal her diary and gave me a fake one to make me feel sorry for her. That stupid bitch. I'll get her. Then again, I have a feeling that she has a completely different reason for inviting us over. I'll find out tonight anyways.

**A/N: Hey guys. Just to let you know, the "oOo" sign is something to let you know that the point of view of the story has changes from Wendy to Cartman or visa verse. Oh and in the very beginning, Cartman is reading the first diary entry from Wendy's diary. I thought I should make her a character with a lot of depth and a complex personality. You know, make her seem more than she… well seems. And Cartman, with the intention of blackmail, actually discovers this side of Wendy that no one has yet to see. Oh and if you're wondering why this chapter was so long and why the hell has Wendy not figured out her diary is stolen, it was long because I had a lot to say, and she will figure it out… and trust me it'll be funny. There's a LOT more drama, surprises, twists, and not to mention a dab of awesome humor to come. I hope you guys like the idea of Wendy having more depth in her personality. Thanks for reading and await more from this story and my other stories!**


	4. Swallow

At lunch we all decided to meet in front of the school next to the flag pole so that we can start walking to my house. So as soon as my sociology class ended I made my way past the door and hallway with Kyle and Cartman. They are in a lot of my own electives. They seem to enjoy debates, and the study of people and their mind, as do I. From Kyle I suspected this, but from Cartman? Perhaps this was a method for him to haunt the poor Jew's life even more. They are always getting into fights, as am I with him. I adore all my friends, but Cartman? I couldn't dare feel anything but sheer loathe for such a pathetic human being. Kyle and I are constantly feuding with the fatass, Kyle more so than I.

"So are your parents going to be at the house, Wends?" Kyle asked from the left of me.

"Not my mother, she's out on a business trip." I responded. I knew Kyle's mother wouldn't allow him to go to someone's house without parent supervision. Usually, he wouldn't give a thought to her rules, especially if she were to never know, but seeing as he is stuck in this predicament with Bebe, he would obviously be practically worshiping her before breaking the news to her. Knowing that women, I wouldn't be surprise if she disowns the poor boy.

"So your Step-dad would be watching over us?" Kyle asked.

I had to muster all my strength to keep myself from stopping dead on my tracks from the mention of him. "Y-yeah. Though don't worry, Kyle. He's nice to all my friends." I said.

"You don't seem too happy about it though." I heard Cartman say from my right.

"What are you talking about, fatass? James is practically the nicest adult here! He's totally a lot smarter than any of the r-tarded adults in this hick town." Kyle said.

"Is he, Wendy?" Cartman said, seemingly teasing, but if I didn't know any better, I could swear I saw concern lingering in his voice.

"Why of course he is, why wouldn't he be? How could you think such a thing, Eric?" I only use his first name when I feel it be proper. I call him fatass when he's being an asshole, and Cartman whenever. But when I am being polite, or see some good in him (which I only called him Eric for that reason once in my lifetime), or now, to throw the bastard off track.

His eyes opened a bit wide as if he didn't expect me to use his first name. He quickly regained composure and furrowed his brow. No one noticed this little act of shock but me. I didn't realize it, but I was smirking deviously, as soon as I noticed this, I wiped it off my face and smiled pleasantly. "Anyways, where are the rest of them?" I asked, as I leaned back to the flag pole.

_**oOo**_

After we walked out of sociology class, I walked alongside with the bitch and she was along side with the Jew. I tried not to make myself be obvious about it, but I was staring at her fucking head. All I could think of was the bitch all day. Especially after I read her fucking entry. I mean the second one, not the first. I new that sucker by heart now.

_Second Entry, 2010, May 12_

_Dearest Diary,_

"_Can one desire too much of a good thing?" Act four, scene one of__As you like it__._

_Yes, yes one can. I know it all too well. That's why I love Shakespeare's plays and sonnets. It's as if he whispers my heart's toil in words. I desire too much of anything. I am weak. Tempted by the foil greed of human nature. I should be punished for wanting so much. For_having_so much. I have Stan, he is mine to love and kiss and engorge in. I have friends, friends to take for granted in, to smile, to ignore. A mother who loves too much with her heart, who should stop seeing me as her treasure, and what it is in reality as a burden. I hold the trust of many in which I can no longer take hold of. It's slipping, and they don't know it. I lie far too much for them to know what words I speak are true. I have a nice home, a well, safe life. I have nice clothes, sleek and pleasant. I have the glimmer of all I see, the shine of the moon. Yet, I don't know why. I haven't done anything to take note of. I desire too much of my miracles in life. It's a good think this has happened. I deserve what has been thrown ever so harshly at my face. He came because I deserved some sort of earthquake in my garden of treachery. I deserve all the horrors I get from this man._

_I don't know why it's only me. I think of it too rash, too furtive to be only me. Why me? I know I deserve this, but I don't know why he tortures me so. I cry more often, he said I deserve this. I believe him. He said I have too much, that I have done nothing in thanks for my given treasures. He said I deserve to die. I knew I was a fool to think for a moment each day that he cared. He shouldn't care, he doesn't need the responsibility. The only reason he acted so courteous lately is because we have always been surrounded by others. We haven't been alone, and truly alone for quite sometime. My heart was almost soaring, to think that he had forgiven me for all the things I didn't deserve. I want him to love me the same way he shows it to be in front of everyone. He was almost too much like a father. It made me gleam._

_Today he pinned me to the wall of the kitchen in rash fury. He said I stole something dear of his. I didn't know what he was talking about. I couldn't call for help; my mother was out shopping with Grandmother. I couldn't beg him to stop, or he'd hit me again. He hasn't hit me since I was fourteen. He said I wasn't worth the hand. Yet I must've done something beyond the threads of his liking for him to do this. He said I stole his letters. Letters of what I still don't know. Love letters? Is he cheating on my mother? Letters of business, of what? I never dared to ask in fear of his rage. His eyes burned through my tears, he never hesitated on taking what little happiness I gained. Then again, I never gained it, it was all a lie. A lie I cannot take anymore._

_What if I were to disappear? What if I were to die? What would he do? He would probably cheer. He would gleam. He scares me to death, I'd rather die than touch him, but I want to make him smile. I want to know that he smiled, and I mean_really _smiled because of me. Should I kill myself? Stan wouldn't mind much. He could get someone better. Bebe could speak to Red instead of me, she'd help him keep chasing after Kyle. Tweek would cry for sure, but he'd only cry because he would think it was some conspiracy or something of that note. Kenny wouldn't care, he'd see me every other day seeing how much the poor guy dies. My mother wouldn't like it though. But if she knew who I really was, if she knew how horrid and pathetic I really was, she wouldn't give a damn. Kyle would be sad, only because he would have no one to team up with when Eric was attacking us with racist and bigot feuds. Eric would laugh in my funeral, he would do something so obscene. Laugh and insult me to no end. Knowing him he would crap on my tomb. So vulgar._

_Still, would anyone really care if I died? I want to try and find out, but I'm too scared. I'm even a coward in the eyes of death. How sad, how pathetic. I wouldn't do that, I'm too afraid. Still, at least I should be thankful, at least James hasn't flirted with me in weeks, and at least he hasn't groped me when my mother wasn't watching. That makes me happy. At least it was just a hit. Tomorrow I'll just tell my friends that someone in the street pushed me and my face fell on the corner of a bike rack. It's believable, better than the cliché "I fell down the stairs" excuse. I'll tell my mother that too. I need to go and pick up some milk and bread, also some snacks. My mother knows that I didn't have this bruise before she went shopping, if I get something from the store, then she'll believe me. I should also tell her that I got hit before I arrived at the store, so that if anyone sees me before I have the grocery bags, then if they talk to my mom, she wouldn't be suspicious._

_For now, I'll go to the store and avoid James at all possible times. I need to buy milk, bread, cheesy poofs, an ice pack for my bruise, and some Motrin for the pain. That should be about $20 that I should bring. After I come back, I'll just take a nice warm shower and cry a bit. Let it all out. I don't want to feel all grumpy tomorrow at school, so then I won't worry anyone. Still, I wish I wouldn't be a burden to anyone around me anymore._

Holy shit that was even heavier than the last entry and it's only the second! Still as we are walking through the crowded halls, I still can't believe that her punk as Step-dad does that to her. I always wondered how she got that bruise near the end of last school year. She said that exact same excuse, but I didn't think it was true. Still I shook it off and joked that her secret pimp "scolded" her for fucking the wrong guy. I thought I was funny then, it still would've been funny if I didn't know about this… "situation".

"So are your parents going to be at the house, Wends?" The fucking Jew asked. God damn him, how dare he interrupt my thoughts; I'll gas that kike one day. Little Jersey, Jewish, Ginger fucker…

"Not my mother, she's out on a business trip." Wendy responded the Jew.

"So your Step-dad would be watching over us?" The Jew asked.

Wendy's face went from looking like she was about to scream like those bitches in a horror movie to pleasantly delighted. It's fucking weird how she's able to do that freaky shit. "Y-yeah. Though don't worry, Kyle. He's nice to all my friends." She said.

"You don't seem too happy about it though." I cut in. I knew how horrible her step-dad was now. It's now obvious why she wants us to sleep over. She wants protection. James did something to her this morning; I don't know what, but something to make her this scared to "bother" us to come over, as she would see it.

"What are you talking about, fatass? James is practically the nicest adult here! He's totally a lot smarter than any of the r-tarded adults in this hick town." The fucking Day-walker said! Is it so hard to say retarded? RETARDED! **NOT** fucking "r-tarded" or whatever Jews say. It's probably a Jersey thing, figures.

"Is he, Wendy?" I said trying to tease her. If I make it seem like I'm being an asshole, then the bitch won't figure out that I know something.

"Why of course he is, why wouldn't he be? How could you think such a thing, Eric?" She said, completely cocky.

Woah, woah… what. The. Fuck? NO one calls me Eric. Except my mom, some kiss ass adults and that pathetic little wretch Butters. She only calls me that to throw me off or when she wants something.

Unfortunately, the hoe threw me off successfully. My eyes widened a bit from the mention of my first name, still I regained composure just as quickly as I lost it. Despite my James Bond attempt to make my little fail a secret, I knew that bitch saw my expression the moment she let out a devious smirk. As soon as she found out what face she made, she just smiled and stared forward as if nothing happened. Figures, hippies are bipolar.

"Anyways, where are the rest of them?" She asked as she leaned back to the flag pole.

Just then, I heard the most pussy ass voice from afar and my blood curdled and screamed "DUMBASS EMO JOCK!" I immediately knew it was Marsh. Kyle seemed to beam at his call. I didn't quite catch what he said though, something about being sorry and late. I put two and two together and figured he said he was sorry they were a bit late. Figures. The pussy _would_ apologies.

Wendy perked up at his voice too, she pushed her weight off the flag pole and threw her arms around the pussy and gave him a quick but meaningful kiss on the lips. I felt like I was going to barf hippie vomit. Kyle seemed to perk up more at Bebe's presence, as soon as his eyes lit up; he quickly tried to hide it with aloofness. That oblivious little Jew is so clueless at how painfully obvious he is. Bebe blushed and wrapped one arm around the scarlet cheeked Jew. Gross.

Just then I looked down to see a wide-eyed Tweek looking like he was about to cry. What the fuck is it now! What? Underpants gnomes? The government? Vicious rabid poodles? What the fuck does he want?

"We gotta get, ACK, girlfriends, dude!" He squeaked at me.

I heard Kyle scoff and laugh next to me. "Like any mammal of any species would be interested in that fat lard of ass that is giving poor gravity too much weight to handle."

I heard Stan laugh hysterically.

"Ay! Shut your mouth you fucking Jersey kike!" I screamed at Kyle. I then turned to Tweek, "I don't need _you_ telling _me_ what to do you twitchy ass freak! No girl is woman enough to take me anyways. Besides I do what I want whenever I want. I do what I want, bitch!"

"Hey, don't call me a kike asshole! I swear if you call me that one more time I'll fucking beat your ass till that alien probe slips right off!" The Jew said.

"It's gone! It's fucking gone! It's not even there anymore you dumb Jew!" I said half blushing. God damn that Jew, I don't like it when anyone brings that up.

Bebe and Wendy ignored our bickering and immediately ditched their boyfriends to aid to Tweek. "Aww! I'll be your girlfriend, Tweekers!" Wendy squealed.

"No he's mine, I got dibs on the cutie myself!" Bebe slung her arms around Tweek's.

Wendy grabbed his other arms. "Yeah, but Tweek likes me more!"

"Na-uh! Tweek is like, totally mine because he likes be best!"

"He likes me infinity!"

"He likes me over 9,000!"

Wendy just stared at Bebe for a while before giving in. She pouted and let go of Tweek's arm. "Shit. I can't beat that. It's even more awesome than the Goku scale."

Bebe stuck out her tongue at Wendy and squealed at her victory while clutching a very confused Tweek.

Wendy went to Stan's arms. "Well I guess I'm stuck with you." She 'pretend' pouted.

"Hey! That's just mean!" Stan yelled while smiling.

"What you gonna cry wuss?" I joked.

"Fuck you, fatass." He said flipping me off.

"Ay! I ain't fat! I just have a sweet hockey body." I said, practically modeling my hot bod. "Plus at least I wasn't rejected by some cocaine addict like a certain little Jew."

Kyle just shrugged and turned to Tweek. "I get her on weekends got it?" He joked with a sly smile.

"OH MY GOD!" Tweek screamed actually taking the Jew rat serious.

Bebe just squealed in excitement.

After a while, we started to walk to Wendy's house. Me arguing with the Jew. Wendy holding Stan's hands. And Bebe having both her arms linked with Kyle and a very distraught Tweek.

When we arrived to her house she took out her keys and turned the house lock. Her mood went from visibly cheerful to a bit nervous. Only I could figure out why though. When the door opened, she carefully turned her head both ways as if she was looking for something, in this case, a certain nightmare of hers. Everyone else was joking and laughing loudly, no one noticed her anxious eyes and her shaking hands. I was the only one who noticed her trembling lips. That's when I knew without a doubt that the diary was completely real, none of it was a trick. She was in fact scared shitless of James.

Speaking of the asshole, he came from the top of the stairs and down to the living room. She visibly stiffened. It was like her entire body froze, even her trembling stopped. It was like she was afraid to breathe. I unconsciously glared daggers at her step-dad.

He came with a pleasant smile and a warm atmosphere; it was almost hard to believe that this guy was the same guy in Wendy's diary. "Wends! What a pleasant surprise! I knew you were coming home, but with friends? How long are they staying?" He cheerfully asked. Then he extended his hands to us, first to Stan. "It's a pleasure meeting you again. You're Wendy's boyfriend, right?"

"Yep. Nice seeing you again too, James." Stan smiled completely oblivious. So I take it not even Stan knows about her situation.

He shook everyone's hands, and lastly he reached for mines. "And you are?" He asked me with an overly, cheerfully, sickening smile.

"Eric Cartman." I nearly growled and shook his hand like I was touching raw sewage.

"Don't be rude, fatass." Kyle scolded. He turned to James, "Sorry about this guy, he's rude to everyone. Don't take it personally." Kyle said.

All the while, Wendy just froze, it even looked like she was fighting tears. How did no one notice this? How could no one notice her!

James came in to hug Wendy, but she avoided his slightest touch and dodged him completely. "Nice to see you too, James. I hope your book is coming along nicely." She said rather quickly and almost as if she were about to cry but tired to desperately hide it in her voice. She rushed up the stairs and motioned with the back of her hands for us to follow. She did all this without ever turning back; I never once saw her face as soon as she dodged the bastard. "Come one guys, my room's up here. They want to stay the night, James. I already have sleeping bags and they already called their parents." She informed him as she started to make her way upstairs.

James frowned as if he was incredibly disappointed. He turned back to us, "Sorry about the awkward situation. She still hasn't warmed up to me. It's fine though, it's a surprisingly normal psychological reaction in a divorced child." He smiled and waved as he went to the kitchen. "I'll make you nice kids a snack, have fun."

The rest of us went up the stairs awkwardly and saw Wendy smile in front of her door as if everything was alright. Was it only me who could see the heavy fear in her eyes?

"Wendy, that wasn't nice at all." Bebe scolded as she opened Wendy's bedroom door.

Wendy just shrugged, "Sorry, it's just weird okay." She laughed and went in. Everyone else just shrugged and shook off the events that just happened as something normal. Was it only me who could hear the strained hysteria in her laugh? As if she was on the brink of a brake down.

Her room was pretty big and was spacious. Enough for all of us. She had some posters on the wall, mostly about bands. Not girly boy bands, actual good bands like _Paramore_and My _Chemical Romance._There were stuffed animals in her bed, and a nice pastel looking color that embraced the light in her room. She had the closet door open that revealed the jumbled mess of elegant clothing, simple yet noticeable. There was a shelf right next to her bed, a huge ass shelf with fucking amazing books. Not only on Shakespeare, which knowing her she obviously had. She had books from William Faulkner, Thomas Pain (she had his book _Common Sense_!) and Annette Curtis Klaus. Holy shit I even think I saw John Green and Mark Twain. There was a poster on the different kinds of government and a timeline of when each was most popular.

Then I fucking saw it as I turned my head. A giant ass poster on Emilie fucking Autumn. Yeah, that hippie bitch had something so fucking amazing on her wall. While everyone sat on the ground, I trudged to the EA poster and gawked in astonishment.

"What is it now, fatass? Saw a discarded Twinkie on the floor or something." I heard Kyle call out from behind.

Usually I would fucking murder the arrogant kike for saying that, but honestly I couldn't care less at this point. I turned my head to them, directly at Wendy's direction and just pointed at the poster.

"Oh, that's Emilie Autumn. She's my favorite singer." She responded in the calmest voice I've heard.

"I fucking know who she is! Where did you get this poster!" I demanded to know!

"I ordered it online. You know her?" She asked.

"Know her? I fucking worship the fucking ground she sings in! She's like the best thing since Hitler!" I said.

"Hey! Don't you compare her to Hitler! She's like a million times better than that fucked up psycho!"

"Who's Emilie Autumn?" Stan asked. Wow, what a great boyfriend. He's been with her for years and doesn't even know her favorite singer.

"She's the best violinist, singer, poet, writer, and all around musician that ever walked the face of the earth." I stated.

No one seemed to know her. I was getting fucking pissed.

"Well, her music is kind of underground, so it's understandable if no one knows her. Not even the Goth kids in school know about her and her music genre relates mostly to Victorian Goths." Wendy explained. "Despite her popularity in the Goth culture, her songs reference history and her lyrics cry the very essence of poetry. She's really inspirational and a beacon of admiration to women everywhere." She smiled cheerfully.

"Yeah I remember you showing me one of her songs. What was it called? Sha-something?" Bebe said.

"_Shalott_." Both Wendy and I said in pure unison.

"That's my favorite song!" Wendy said.

"It's a nice song, but it's not as good as _Let the Record Show_ or _Liar_." I said.

"Are you kidding me! _Shalott_ is one of her most poetic songs! The message is sad yet inspiriting! Though I have to say _Opheliac_ is amazing, mostly because of the blunt truth in the verse about intelligent women and the historical reference from Shakespeare's _Hamlet_!" Wendy exclaimed.

"Oh you mean the part when she sings 'Doubt that the sun doth move, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love'?" I aksed.

"Yeah that's the very part!" Wendy cheered.

"Well you have to agree her best instrumental piece is _Face the Wall_. Everyone who likes her says it's _Unlaced_, but you can truly feel the passion in her notes in _Face the Wall_." I suggested.

"I agree, _Face the Wall_ was purely genius all in all, but despite _La Folia_ being a cover, I still like to listen to it the most when it comes to her instrumental releases." Wendy said.

"GAH I'M SO CONFUSED!" Tweek screamed.

"Me too, I have no idea in what you guys are talking about." Stan whined.

"Why don't you put on some of her songs, I really liked Shalet!" Bebe said.

"It's Shalott." Both Wendy and I said in unison.

"That's a wonderful idea, Bebe!" Wendy gleamed as she went to turn on her laptop and search for the songs.

"So how did someone as backwards as you get into this artist?" Kyle asked. Can the Jew ever say something about or to me without insulting me?

"Actually, I found her through Playboy." I said, shrugging.

Everyone just stared at me then they slowly turned to Wendy. She seemed so calm about the comment.

She turned to find everyone staring at her. "W-what?" She asked.

"Playboy?" Stan croaked.

"D-don't look at me! I found her through Hannah Fury, another Victorian influenced singer I found through a homework assignment. It's true she was involved in Playboy, but trust me when I say that she is an inspiration to women!" She said turning back.

"I thought you were against they whole whore thing!" Bebe asked.

"I AM! And Emilie is certainly NO whore! There is a reason why she is the way she is, she has had a horrible past. She is a bit disturbed, but that's what her songs sing, most of them anyway. She knows how she is and she says it bluntly to her audience, she doesn't care who follows her songs or not, she just sings for herself and does whatever she wants." Wendy argued.

"She's still pretty hot!" I said.

"Pervert!" Wendy yelled.

"A pervert with good taste." I corrected.

She rolled her eyes and played a song of Emilie's. It was _Swallow._

_I will swallow, if it will help my sea level go down. But I will come back to haunt you if I drown._

The violins danced with the electronic beats.

_I'll tell the truth: all of my songs. Are pretty much the fucking same, I'm not a faerie but I need more than his life so I became. This creature representing more to you than just another girl and if I had a chance to change my mind I wouldn't for the world!_

"Wow, the lyrics are breathetaking!" Bebe squealed.

"Shhh!" I hushed.

"_I don't want to be a legend" Oh well that's a god damned lie - I do! To say I do this for the people I admit is hardly true. You tell me everything's all right as though it's something you've been through. You think this torment is romantic, well it's not except to you~_

I looked around and saw Wendy's eyes in warmth again. The fear looked as it dissipated. She was really happy. As much as didn't want to admit, I was relieved to see her so happy. I smiled to myself.

_Low tide and high tea, the oysters are waiting for me. If I'm not there on time, I'll send my emissary. If I photoshop you out of every picture I could go quietly quiet, but would that do any good? Will it hurt? No it won't, then what am I so afraid of? Filthy Victorians, they made me what I'm made of. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. I don't need a minder, I've made up my mind. Go away!_

Suddenly the door swung open without as much as a knock. There stood James with a bowl of nachos and cheesy poofs. "Hey, kids! I brought some snacks. Hope you guys are having fun." He smiled almost wickedly.

Wendy's expression turned from adoringly to scared shitless. No one noticed but me. Why?

_Can I trust you? But I don't want to!_

"Wow, thanks a bunch, James." Stan beamed.

_I will swallow_

"You're very welcome, guys. Just remember to be in bed before midnight alright!" He smiled.

_If it will help my sea level go down_

"Okay, Thanks again." Kyle smiled to James, as did Bebe.

_But I'll come back to haunt you if I drown_

"Oh Wendy! Is that that singer you are always playing out loud in your room?" James started to say.

_I will swallow_

"What was her name again?"

_If it will help my sea level go down_

"Emily Fall right?" He asked. Was it only I that could tell he was glaring at her through his smile?

_I'll take a deep, deep breath_

Her skin was turning pale and her eyes were wide open. Why didn't anyone else notice!

_But I'll come back to haunt you if I drown_

"Her name is Emilie Autumn, and thank you, Thomas, was it? We appreciate your welcoming hospitality." I answered.

Wendy seemed to snap out of her trance. He was making her submit with only a glare. What if… what if the reason she's so insecure is because of him?

"It's James. And you're welcome, Alex, was it?" He was attacking back with his conversation jab at the end.

"It's Cartman to you, sir. Good night." I smiled slyly.

He finally caught my drift and closed the door. Everyone else didn't notice the tense environment; they just shrugged it off as me being an asshole. They continued to laugh and joke, and they ate the snacks James brought while they played some of Wendy's video games in Xbox 360. It looks like they were playing Halo Reach, but I wasn't paying attention to the game, or more amazingly the food. I turned to see Wendy, her face just regaining some color. She was smiling to herself, as if to brainwash herself that she's fine. It wasn't her turn to play so she just laughed at all the appropriate times and stared on into space.

Just then Kyle noticed me not eating. "Hey fatass, you better eat some or it's all gonna be gone. I don't wanna hear your fatass complaining when there's no more for you."

I just absent mindedly looked onto the screen and shrugged. "Nah, not hungry." For all I know James could've poisoned the god damn thing. Knowing this idea is absolutely absurd, I still didn't feel hungry.

Everyone paused the game and themselves and simply stared at me, astonished.

"You… _**YOU**_ are _**NOT**_ hungry?"Kyle said in disbelief.

I growled in annoyance. "Fine you fucking kike!" I took a handful of cheesy poofs and stuffed them in my mouth. "Wuch weehf eh aroh!" I yelled with the food still in my mouth.

"What?" Kyle asked.

I painfully swallowed my food. "I said, 'Just leave me alone!'"

"Whatever, fatass." Kyle shrugged and unpaused the game.

"Jesus Christ you scared me for a moment there, Cartman." Stan joked.

"Fuck you, assholes!" I grumbled to myself.

I turned to see Wendy staring straight at me in sheer disbelief. Her eyes were wide open and an expression with blunt shock stained her eyes.

After a while of awkward silence between us over the loud roars of laughter and virtual shot guns from the video game from the oblivious assholes, she slowly turned back to the TV set that showed the game of Halo Reach. Um, that was weird.

Then after James, the lying dickwad, ordered us Chinese food, we ate, played some more, and went to sleep. Bebe and Wendy shared her bed, and the rest of us slept in some sleeping bags. Everyone slept, except me. I lay awake there on my sleeping bag, staring at the rug, my back to the window and bed. I just stared boringly at the carpet and the rug, the jumble of elegant clothing sprawled over the closet. I stared at a stuffed unicorn, the game consoles, a pile of text books and unfinished homework. Did I mention today was Friday? I guess not. I stared at the purple painted walls, the color that started to fade. I stared at a spider that sleeked its way out the door and into the outside house.

Then, in the midst of my staring, I heard ruffles of bed sheets. Not just the simple sound of turning, these were excessive. Continuous. Then I heard the creaking of the bed, it whined into the dull silence like an echo. Then I heard tiny thumps, barely enough to recognize, tip toe around the floor. I then saw a foot slowly descend in front of my face. I quickly shut my eyes. I heard more ruffling, I opened my eyes slightly to find Wendy searching around her closet. I saw her take out her purple knitted sweater. It was not tight fitting, but well used in the cold weather. She put in on and freed her hair from the clutches of the hem of the top opening of the sweater. She got up again and turned around. I closed my eyes tightly once more. I heard her slip past the room, tip toeing and watching her steps. Then I heard a raw shift where I knew the window was supposed to be. I felt the chill of the air hug my freezing body. I turned back quickly, but silently, to catch a glimpse of her legs climbing upwards.

I heard steps on the outside wall, and then I saw her feet drop in front of the window. But they just stood there, as if she was sitting on the rooftop. She probably was. After a few silent minutes, or seconds, I couldn't really tell, I slid myself out of my sleeping bag as quietly as I could and tip toed my way to the window. Then I pushed the window door up more so that I could fit through. I slid, with some difficulty (ha-ha, I'm fat, get over it ass munchers) out and tried my best to climb up the roof. When I finally reached up and successfully sat down on the edge of the roof, I turned to look at Wendy. Her eyes were wide open, as she didn't expect me to climb up with her. She just stared at me in shock as I stared back.

As soon as I opened my mouth to say something, her hand swiftly came over my mouth and covered it. I blushed slightly at the contact. She brought her other hand up and placed her index finger above her own mouth to signal to shut up. I simply nodes, still blushing from the contact. She stood up on top of the roof and started to walk carefully ahead, trying not to fall. She turned her torso back to me and signaled her hand for me to follow. I nodded again and stood up, desperately and slowly, I fucking hate heights. Especially after the whole head trauma, pretending to have psychic powers, right hand serial killer thing. Or was it the left hand? Oh, fuck it. I took a step forward and I was leaning back and threw my hands forward as anyone would do for balance.

Then I felt her hands grab mine as she struggled not only to keep her balance, but as well as mine. As soon as I gained back my own balance, I took a step forward again. Thing is, she never let go of my hand, so we just silently tip toed our way to the other side of the roof still holding hands. I couldn't help but blush at the contact, it felt so weird. Nice, but weird. Like I'd ever admit that to the hoe, though.

When we made it we both sat down and she let go of my hand. As soon as her hand slipped from mine, I let out a deep breathe I didn't even know I was holding till now. She stared back to the direction where we came from and then she faced me.

_**oOo**_

"Did I wake you up?" I whispered.

"Nah, I was already awake." He whispered back with a shrug.

"Why did you come up?" I asked.

"Cause I was dying of boredom." He simply stated.

I looked up to the moon's brilliance. It shimmered and its dim rays danced on our faces. When you live in a small hick town like South Park, you can see more stars. That's what we saw, stars. Stars that radiated throughout the sky. Though we didn't see as much stars as I would have liked.

Still, I heard him whisper audibly again. "Why didn't anyone else notice?" He spoke as if he was thinking out loud.

"Notice what?" I curiously asked.

There was a silent pause before he spoke. "Your face."

"My face? What about my face?" I asked, still curious.

"There was so much fear, you even trembled." He said, almost solemnly.

I immediately paused. Shit, did he see? He couldn't have, could he? I continued to stay quiet; he took this as an opportunity to keep talking. "When the bastard came in the room with snacks, your face was so pale. I didn't see you exhale. It was like you were afraid to breathe." He said, looking beyond the horizon, almost to the moon.

I just stared at him with shock and worry. Shit, shit, shit! "I… I have no idea what you mean." I spoke.

He turned to me with a don't-fuck-with-me-I-can-read-past-your-lies look. I visibly, and regrettably, gulped. "Cut the act, hoe. It's fucking obvious how scared shitless you are of James." He turned back to look at the moon. "I was just wondering why, is all. And why nobody else noticed."

I decided to not fuck around anymore. Come clean and just admit it. He saw through my expression clear as day. "'Why' isn't your business. As to everyone else, I have no clue. I'm just glad they didn't notice." I started to gently kick my feet in the air in a steady rhythm.

"I have a clue to why though." I turned to see his face, not stopping my feet. It looked like he was hiding something, like he knew more than he said.

"What do you know?" I asked.

He turned his face away from the moon to me. "That's a secret." He slyly smiled.

I pouted and furrowed my brow. "Fine, then leave me alone. What do you care anyways? You're probably going to laugh at me with that obnoxious taunting laugh. Then you're going to tell the whole fucking world about it, and then you'll make it worse." I stopped kicking my feet. "You always make it worse."

"Fine, fuck you, bitch. This is what I get when I try to comfort a hippie hoe." He said as he started to get up.

I was going to let him go, but then I noticed… did he just say 'comfort'?

I grabbed his sleeve and stared at him with a pleading face. "Car…. Eric." I said sincerely. "I'm sorry." I whispered with an apologetic smile.

He looked surprised and was silent for a few moments, but he sat back down reluctantly.

"So spill, hoe." He demanded.

I sighed. I'll tell him some things, but not too much. "He's not as nice as he seems." I said.

"Why? What does he do when we aren't around?" He asked, still looking straight ahead.

"He… well…" Something clicked in my mind. I could show with an example. "Do you remember last year, in May?"

He turned to me with a shocked face.

"Remember that bruise I had, the one I told everyone a stranger in the street bumped roughly into me and I felt and hit my face to a bike rack? Remember how you joked that 'my pimp' did it?" I asked, looking ahead while he stared at me.

"Y-yeah." He answered.

"I didn't fall. I was hit." I said as if it was nothing.

"James hit you." He said in more of a statement than a question.

"Yeah, but it wasn't his fault. I did something wrong." I continued. I don't want to blame all of it on James; if I didn't throw away the letters then he wouldn't have hit me.

"How wasn't that kind of thing his fault?" He whispered, almost angrily.

"You see, he had some letters. Apparently I somehow threw them away without noticing. Maybe they were there on the counter and I saw it as garbage. I don't know. Either way, the letters were important to him. I had no right to throw them, even if it was an accident. I deserved it." I finally said.

There were a few moments of silence, I didn't dare look to him, and I just bore my eyes to the silver beacon ahead.

"Do you remember throwing away anything before that happened?" He suddenly asked me.

I thought back. I didn't remember it, but it had to have happened. If not then… "No, but if he says I did then I did." I answered.

Silence.

"And what did you do to make him scare you as much as you were today?" He asked.

My head spun to his direction, my eyes wide open. "How..." I was cut off by him.

"Don't think I didn't see through your little motive in bringing us here. The only reason we are staying at your house tonight is because he did something to you." He looked at me. "Did he threaten to kill you?"

"N-no. No, he hasn't." I said.

"Then what? The Wendy I know wouldn't be fazed by anyone." He said.

"Shows how little you know about me."

"No. It seems like YOU don't know yourself. You're not Wendy." He said.

"You're just being retarded. Of course I'm Wendy!" I loudly whispered.

"No. No you're not. This wimp, this fucking cunt I'm looking at isn't the annoying, overly-confident Wendy I hate. This Wendy is insecure, too naïve, stupid. The Wendy I know would have never believed anything without stone proof." He paused. "Then again, the Wendy I know died long time ago. What have you done with her?" He said, glaring me down.

"I debate everyday at school; I'm still the same Wendy!" I said.

"This isn't about debating, hoe. That Wendy is just a fucking mask. That Wendy isn't real, she's just an illusion made up by this fucked up Wendy." He said.

I gritted my teeth and whispered loudly. "I AM Wendy! I AM the same Wendy I was two years ago, the same Wendy I was since 4th grade!" I knew I was lying.

"Then prove it to me." He said, getting up and carefully walking away to the other side of the roof.

I heard him slip… or rather try to fit, through the window. I just stared at the direction he walked away from. I checked my phone. It was only 2:41 A.M. damn; this is going to be awhile.

At 4:00 A.M. I went back into the room. Everyone was asleep. That's when I went to where Eric laid. I crouched down to get a better look at him. I just stared at his face for a while. After a while of waiting, I sighed and tapped my hand on the floor slightly and I kept tapping it forward to make it seem I was walking away. Just then, he opened his eyes. I knew it; he was pretending to fall asleep. When he saw me his head jerked back a little and I grinned deviously.

After a few moments of savoring my victory, he smiled cunningly which made me a bit surprise.

"Only the Wendy I know would smile with such arrogance." He whispered.

I widened my eyes.

"It seems that she's still caged up inside there." He said, and then he covered his face with his blanket.

I found myself slightly gasping. I furrowed my brow and pouted. Then I finally came up with an idea. I lowered my face to his uncovered ear. Then I whispered, my lips less than an inch to his ear, "It seems you have taken a liking to the old Wendy, frankly I feel a bit neglected." I said with a smirk.

I got up and walked away without looking to see his reaction. As I went back to my bed, I knew he was still looking at me. To tell you the truth, I was mostly bluffing. I was teasing him and trying to play with his mind. It seems as if I entered a war with him. A mind war. A war that yield the weapon of manipulation, confusion, and the tugging of emotions.

This could be fun.

**A/N: Yay! I finished this chapter! I decided to make both Cartman and Wendy Emilie Autumn fans, it makes them have something in common. Also, just to let you guys know, Cartman already knew (partly at least) why Wendy is scared of James, he just wanted to hear it from her. Also he was surprise that she would tell him about the May incident so soon.**

**Also, if any of you know the song Swallow by Emilie autumn or just know who she is, PM me! I need to meet existing Emilie fans! I'm going to have so much fun writing the next chapter! Yay! A mind war between Cartman and Wendy! They are both going to suffer severe mind fucks! Brain farts and manipulation galore! Also I want to expand not only Wendy's character, but also Cartman's! And surprisingly, Tweek's! :DD**


	5. Fortune's Fool

Damn that hippie… damn her. What did she mean by that? _"__It seems you have taken a liking to the old Wendy, frankly I feel a bit neglected." _She had to be teasing me. No other explanation possible. Almost like she caught on to my secret… like I'd let her. She was teasing, and it was her acceptance to the war I created. Nothing more, nothing less. So I got up with that thought. It was seven and I slid out from bed. I peered over to Wendy who apparently fell asleep and was twitching her hand as if she was in a dream, her mouth parted slightly. So I was the only one awake, being that Tweek took some weird herbal sleeping tea before he fell asleep last night. I opened the door slowly and closed it gently not to wake up anyone. As I did I creaked down the stairs to where the living room was. I was starving, simply because I scarcely ate anything yesterday before going to sleep. That damn bitch doesn't know what she can do to me. Damn bitch. So I walked calmly to the kitchen, in attempts to eat early, and found a disgusting bug waiting for me. His species: James.

"Oh, hello. Did you have a nice night's sleep?" He asked. He wasn't getting food, he wasn't doing anything. Just standing there, staring at me, as if he was waiting for me.

"Not really." I answered as I opened the fridge.

"Oh, how come?" He asked in saccharine concern.

"There was a disgusting bug around the house in the other room." I said glancing at him.

He caught my drift. "You're very mean to the bug. I'm sure it wasn't _that_ disgusting."

"You're right; it is _way_ worse than what I make it out to be." I said as I took out the milk and butter and headed for the cabinet where hopefully the glasses or cups were.

"I take it Wendy told you everything." He said bluntly, cutting the crap.

"No. You see, I'm a genius, therefore I figured it out all by myself." I answered, pouring my glass with milk.

"Aren't you proud of yourself?" He sneered.

"So I'm guessing her bruise last May was thanks to you?" I smirked his way as I found the bread.

"Are you going to tell anyone? I'd advise you not to, being that no one would believe you. You seem to be hated by your very own friends. You have no allies. If even Wendy were to agree with you openly, which I doubt she would being that I have her in the palm of my hand and she's concerned for her mother's happiness, with the way I act, I'm in the favor." He explained. This made me smirk bitterly to myself. We're dealing with an idiot here.

"Don't you think I haven't already thought of that?" I answered calmly spreading the butter on my bread. "Actually, I'm surprised you would think I would care about Wendy enough to worry. I'm sure you heard about my character throughout the town." I answered, bluffing.

"Ah…" He said as if he were a professor schooling a student. "But that's where I call your bluff. Your poker face isn't that convincing." He walked behind me, giving me the chills. I can see why Wendy is scared of him, not that I am, but he's a natural born creep. "I can in fact tell that you care very much for her, although you don't show it. A little too much."

I see now, he spotted my secret. I can't panic now… I have to have the upper hand by the end of this conversation.

"So you can see I'm in love with her." I bluntly said, cutting the crap as well. If he knew, there's no reason to hide it. I just hope no one's listening. "I've been so since the third grade. So you see, there's nothing really that I will not stoop to to assure her safety."

His eyes widened… not at my admitting my crush on her, but of my last remark.

"And by what means will you stoop to?" He asked.

"To whatever means I have to." I said, grinning triumphantly. I'm gaining the upper hand, time to lash out the last attack that will assure my winning. "Although, I don't think I'll have to stoop so low for this situation. I have something up my sleeve." I reveal. It could be a bluff, it could be true. He'd never know. And as I begin to walk away with my food, I turn before I head out the kitchen. "It's obvious that you have done physical, emotional, verbal, and psychological abuse, but there was a reason to why she wanted all of us to sleep over last night. She has no bruises or any signs of it. She isn't so afraid if the other types of abuses as to invite us all. That only leaves one type of abuse left." I turned fully to glare all my hatred at him, making my face intimidating and meaning every word I was about to utter. "For your sake, I hope you haven't gone as far as I am insinuating, or I would really have to stoop so low."

I went off to the dining table and began to eat. I was sure that James was gawking at me from the kitchen, but I didn't dare to look. I had won; if I looked it would shatter all the meanings of my words. Minutes later, the door audibly opened, and I glanced up to see Bebe and none other than Wendy herself.

She had a tired Bebe draped around her and they went down the stairs. She looked down to see me at the dining table, her face went in relief. She was probably afraid to see James, which she couldn't see at the angle she was in at the moment.

"Good morning, fatass." She beamed in a soft voice. She probably thought that James was still asleep and she didn't want to wake him up.

"Morning, hoe." I muttered.

"Wendy, I want cereal." Bebe mumbled as they reached the end of the stairs.

"Oh, good morning Wendy, and Bebe, was it?" James said as he came out of the kitchen.

Wendy visibly stiffened and her face went pale. Bebe looked up and smiled and waved as she said, "Mornin' James."

"M-m-morning…" Wendy almost whispered.

Her eyes were wide when she looked at me, as if asking me what happened. I signaled for her to get her food, and she obliged. She had a jacket over her tank top, and as she went to the kitchen while Bebe sat down on the dining table, she zipped it up as her hand trembled. I knew then that the other abuse is what had happened, and I knew that she at least wasn't (hopefully) molested or raped, but she was definitely sexually harassed. As she passed James, I turned my gaze to him, our eyes meeting. I gritted my teeth and glared at him with all my might. I was pissed. So fucking pissed beyond my belief. What has he been doing to her! How long! How much! He simply smirked victoriously at my way and sat down to the end of the dining table.

The door upstairs opened once more and out came Kyle, the fucking Jew. He yawned as he looked down, finding us all in the dining table, and Wendy coming out of the kitchen with cereal and toast.

"Morning." He waved as he trudged to the kitchen. They all returned the morning, except for me of course.

The others came out eventually and we ate. Kyle left first, Bebe following him. Then Tweek, then I. Lastly Stan. All that was left was Wendy. I planned to come back later, purposely leaving something at her house. I just had to wait till three. They wouldn't suspect me at three. I just hope that James doesn't try anything on her by then.

_**oOo**_

After they all left I rushed to my room with the excuse of homework. I scribble down my homework without really paying attention to my math problems; consequently, I ended up getting many problems wrong and having to redo them all. As I began problem one again, I heard a knock on the bedroom door. I turned to my fear to see James grinning down at me.

"Do you need help with your math homework? You've already gotten so much wrong." He said in a false concern.

"N-no thank you." I say to face my homework. I feel his repulsive warmth behind me as he watches me solve the problem. I try… and although I'm usually good at this, I can't think well and I get stuck on the middle of the problem.

"Oh, no Wendy. That's not how you go about that." He takes my hand where my pencil is and leans, his chest and head on my back. I want to scream, but I refrain.

"You see, when using the natural log you have to press this on the calculator or you'll never get past this part." He says.

I nod my head as I tremble.

"Then you cancel this part out because of the natural log." He explains, leaning in closer to me, his other arm slithering around my waist.

I nod, still staring forward to the wall, my eyes in the verge of tears.

"Oh, Wendy. You're not even looking at the problem. You'll never learn like this." He says.

Finally, his hand starts to move away, and I start to breathe again as I know he'll probably leave me alone. Suddenly and unexpectedly, a hand clutches and gropes my left breast. I shriek in horror and fall back to my stool and unto the hard floor. He groped my breasts… he GROPED my BREASTS! Stan hasn't even done that!

"What's wrong Wendy? Are you okay?" He leans down to me, his legs straddling me, forcing me down and he grips my arms to the floor so I won't try to escape. He's too strong, no matter how much I struggle. I can feel his erection grow and I start to get frantic.

"Please…" I whisper with a broken voice, tears running down my eyes.

"'Please' what? Continue?" He says as his hips buck forward.

"STOP! PLEASE STOP!" I cry in sheer terror.

He takes out a knife and cuts my shirt open; I squeal in fear and choke out a sob. This isn't happening is it! Why! This is exactly what I was afraid of. This is exactly what I didn't want! Oh God make this stop! He's groping my breasts again, this time I just have my bra on. Oh God, please make this stop!

I try and knee him where it hurts but he dodges in time. He glares down at me and my eyes open in terror. He swung the back of his hand to my face and the pain was sharp and keen. This is really going to happen isn't it? I can taste the metal iron in my mouth, the blood in my tongue. I tighten my eyes as I pretend I'm somewhere else. Somewhere else! Anywhere! Anywhere but here!

Suddenly… the doorbell rang. He stopped his movement all together. He glanced at the hallway leading out to the room.

"Is it your damn friends again?" He sneered.

"I don't know." I cry. "Please, I don't know…"

"I won't answer it." He mumbled.

Insisting knocking echoed the house. "Wendy! Wendy, are you there!" Eric's voice boomed from outside. For the first time in my entire life, I was so happy to hear his voice. "I'm not leaving until someone opens the door. Wendy! Are you okay! Are you there!"

"Damn it!" James grumbled. He got up, thank you God, and he recomposed himself. "Stay here. If you dare make a noise or signal him that you are here, I will have no mercy." He glared to me. I nodded as I covered my mouth, already sitting up.

"Wendy! Are you there! WENDY!" Cartman's voice boomed, almost growing frantic.

The door was closed on my face and I heard James' footsteps roll down the stairs. I heard him open the door, and mumbled voices. I had to leave now. I don't want to go through this… I don't want this. I would only allow Stan to touch me… no one else. I don't want this!

_**oOo**_

The door swung open to reveal a smiling James.

"Where's Wendy? Why did you take so long to answer the door?" I glared.

"I was sleeping in my study. Wendy is at the market to pick up a few items, being that she didn't want to bug me. What is it that you want?" He said, the last sentence growing irritated.

"I left something in her room." I growl.

"What is it? I'll retrieve it for you." James smiled.

"I'll find it myself. I know where I left it." I said, growing impatient.

"I'm sorry, but this is my home, my property. If I wish for you to enter, I may allow you in. If I don't, you aren't allowed to. This is the law. Now, what is your item, I will retrieve it. If you don't agree with the situation, I will call the police for force entry." James explained.

"You're hiding something…" I reasoned aloud. "Fine. It's my home key. It's spray painted red and it's near her book shelf." I lost this time. I couldn't help Wendy. He's hiding something… what is he hiding. If she's in the market… then he's probably searching her room, or he's doing something perverted with her clothes.

"Thank you, I will go and retrieve them for you." He said and left upstairs. As soon as the door shut I heard footsteps from the side of the house. I turned to see Wendy there, but what I saw from her was a horror to me. Her shirt was cut open and her bra was exposed and her pants were unbuckled, and her eyes were red from crying and her cheek was bruised, blood forming in the corner of her mouth. Did she climb out of the window? The first thing she did was take my hand and start to run with me. I followed her, completely in a horrible trance. Then as we ran I heard James yell in anger.

We ran as she clutched the hem of her shirt close.

"Over here, Wendy. We'll take my car so it's quicker." She nodded and jumped in the car. Thank God I came when I did. I just hope I wasn't too late.

As we started driving she stared at her lap the entire time. "My mother isn't at my house so no one else will know… if that's what you're afraid of." I didn't even pretend to be an ass this time… she has already gone through enough.

She simply nodded. As I parked in my drive way I turned off the engine. She was about to go out, but I stopped her. "Here, take this." I said, giving her my jacket. She nodded as tears started to form in her eyes and her mouth started to shrivel into a cry. She let out a sob and covered her mouth with her hand. All I could do was wrap my jacket around her as she cried. When she calmed down a bit I lead her into my house. I closed the door and she simply stood near the doorway, staring at my carpet.

I sat down, waiting until she was ready to talk. Minutes pasted, almost half an hour and she began.

"I was doing my math homework. I was nervous about being alone in the house with him, so I kept messing up the formulas. Then he came up and said he'd help me, but he kept touching me as he explained it. His chest and head where leaning into me… then suddenly, when I though he was leaving, he groped my breasts." Her voice broke as she said the last three words. "Then I fell down after I screamed. Then he…" She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes staring at my carpet as she stood the entire time. "…he straddled me and he held my arms in place as he… well his hips…"A sob was let out. "They bucked back and forth. He took out a knife… I though he was going to kill me, but he cut my shirt open. Then when I tried to knee him, he hit me and kept… humping me!" The last to words were bitter and angry, as if she spit out venom. "Then that's where you came in."

I simply stared at her, taking in the entire information. Yesterday morning, in my eyes, she was a happy and trouble-free annoying teenager. After reading the journals and especially today, it all changed for me.

"How long has he been doing this?" I asked.

"Which part?" She said her voice bitter and harsh from the memory.

"Exactly what he was going to do to you today. How long has he been raping you?" I asked.

"Never. He never raped me. This was the first time he went this far!" She screamed in hysterics. "Yesterday morning… I thought… that morning I came out of the shower and then he was there. I only had on a towel. I wanted to go to my room, but… as he was going to leave me; he tugged the hem of my towel and exposed me. I dashed to my room… that's the farthest he's gone till today; before he would only grope my ass when my mother wasn't looking. He would put on the fan so my skirt would fly up as I left for school. He would lick my ears to scare me when I was doing homework. He would lean on my back when I was standing or sitting. He would push me to the wall and look me with those SICK PERVERTED EYES! ALL THE WHILE HOLDING MY THROAT AS IF HE WERE GOING TO STRANGLE ME! HE WOULD-" I cut her off and hugged her. She started to weep and cry loudly into my chest as she clutched to my shirt. "Thank you…" She cried out breathless. "Thank you!" She sobbed.

I simply stroked her head and rubbed circles in her back. "You can stay here in my house, or you can go to Stan's… Bebe's? Anyone's. Just don't go back to that house." I said holding her as she sobbed. She nodded and continued to cry.

God… what did I say to James this morning? I told him if he ever even tried before or after to do this, then I'll stoop low enough to kill him. I'll kill that son of a bitch. Me, a person who has no remorse. Me, a person who feels no guilt when I stare into the eyes of a victim. Me! A person who loves to see others in pain… I would never be able to do this kind of crap. I wouldn't ever be able to watch a woman as she cried as I had my way with her. I don't think I would be able to. Men like him… people like him… they give humanity a bad name, and this is _**me**_ saying this! I thought I was the worst, but no… I'm not even close

After she cried for almost an hour, she fell asleep in my arms and I wrapped a blanket around her, and I laid her down to my couch. Her eyes were red around and so was her nose. I noticed blood was still around the corners of her mouth, but they were dried up and peeling. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a kitchen towel to wet it. I took out frozen peas from my freezer and brought them over to her. I laid them on the floor as I pushed back her bangs and stared down to her.

"Wendy…" I whispered softly, trying to wake her up gently. "Wendy…"

She groaned and her eyes fluttered open. She was so beautiful and she didn't know it, stupid God damn hippie. Damn her. I held up the frozen peas and pressed it to her cheek. She winced and hissed at the pain and I stared at the yellow bruise. Shit, when it's yellow at first it's the worst kind of bruise later. I took the moist towel and wiped the corner of her mouth gently.

"Cartman…?" She asked.

"What is it, bitch?" I retorted.

She furrowed her brow at me and asked, "Why are you helping me?"

I shrugged.

"You're never this nice to anyone. Why are you helping me?" She insisted.

"I do things for my reasons, and you do things for your reasons. I want to keep my reasons to myself." I simply stated.

She nodded and laid back on my couch pillow.

"I left my phone in that house…" She said.

"It doesn't matter. If you need to talk to someone, use mine." I offered.

"Thank you." She wiped away tears that were forming.

"It's just a damn phone, hippie." I rolled my eyes.

"No… if you hadn't been there when you came, I… he would have…" She didn't finish the sentence.

"I know…" I assured. "Just go to sleep and forget about it for now."

She nodded and I took off the frozen peas from her cheeks. She was so tired that she fell asleep almost immediately.

Like she said… Thank God I came at the time I came. I just wish I came a bit sooner than I did, so she wouldn't have to have this kind of memory forever with her.

I need to plan, I need to strategize. I can't take James lightly. I need to plan ahead when it comes to him.

I need help.

**A/N: Oh God… this chapter was VERY painful to write. Like… wow… **

**So anyways, it's now revealed openly that Cartman is in love with Wendy, like you didn't know before right? lol Still… I bet you didn't expect him to be aware of it. He left that key on purpose, so he'd have an excuse to go back just in case, thank you red key… thanks! Now… sorry for not writing for so long on this story… sorry! **

**Oh, and this is towards **_**Jargennorth. **_**Thank you for saying this is a well written story, and analyzing Cartman's character, but I would have to disagree on the comment that mentions Emilie Autumn. Now… I will reveal that Cartman's favorite band is Rammstein, which is not an offensive band, but I will probably mention the band you pointed out as well. Still, can I say that Wendy does NOT want to be normal? She does NOT want to be easily accepted. She wants to make the people she cares about happy, she doesn't care about herself. And it's not out of character for Wendy because Emilie is really pro-women rights and is a feminist. She, to my opinion at least, is a good role model for women who would just simply like to strive to be who they want to and do what they want to, and not be oppressed by anything or anyone. Also, Emilie has been raped before, as shown in her songs and information about her. So it fits with the whole point about Wendy and James. And Cartman… well, she was in playboy, so he found her that way. Also he, although he doesn't seem like it and is backward in opinion, is actually very culturally refined and likes classical music, which Emilie does covers of. So when he listened to her music, he liked the classical parts, but enjoyed the rest of her songs. He likes poetry, and he writes it, which might or might not be revealed later, and he kind of loves underground bands (at least that's what I feel he is… the kind of person he is… liking underground music). And you're right, her literature collection could have been a bonding point, and maybe I'll use that later. This story won't only be about the James problem, it will be including how she falls for him and other secrets about Stan and her growth in independence and security, and finally, what the fuck happens with Kyle and Bebe and their future baby! **

**One more thing…. Comment on **_**WHO**_** do you think Cartman will go to for help! Whoever guesses it right first, I'll write a one-shot for you! Good luck!**


	6. Frailty, thy name is woman

"Take out the trash, bubbeh!" A shrill voice spoke from inside the house.

"I'm doing that now, ma!" He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he carried a garbage bag out of the door. "Jeez, woman." He muttered under his breath.

As he looked up he saw me waiting for him by the light post. He eyed me suspiciously before continuing to throw away the garbage. When he was finished I saw him leave towards his house.

"I need your help." Said I before he had a chance to touch the door handle.

He turned back to me. "I'm not participating in your ungodly schemes, fatass."

I snorted. "No, it's something important."

"What you deem important is what I consider a waste of my precious time." He rolled his eyes.

"How about your friend's safety." I insisted.

"You're not my friend, and I don't care whether you're endangered or not." He said, reaching for the door knob.

"Not mine, dumb Jew." I spout. "Your super best friend's girlfriend."

He turned to me. "What have you done to her?" He asked.

This took me by surprise. Really! "I didn't do anything! I saved her! She was lucky I came when I did!" I yelled, pretty pissed off right now.

He stared at me as if trying to choose whether to trust me, then after a while he walked towards me. He stopped when he was directly in front of me. "I'm listening."

"She's sleeping at my couch at the moment. I need you to come with me. I can't go to Stan, he's too dumb to fight back. I needed someone who was at least half as smart as I." I admitted.

"I don't… is that a compliment or an insult, I can't tell." He quirked his brow.

"Just get in the car." I muttered and he complied. We drove off and when we arrived in my house I opened the door softly. Good, she was still asleep.

"She's wearing your jacket." He noted suspiciously in a whisper. Good, I made the right choice. Any other mindless retard wouldn't have whispered, they would have talked normally, even though I said before she was sleeping on my couch.

"Her shirt was cut open. I had to cover her up." I admitted in a whisper.

Kyle did a double take on me with concerned eyes. "What?"

"Look at her face." I said pointing to her.

He glanced at her and gaped at what he saw. A purple bruise that was slightly cut was etched in her pearly skin. It inflated and looked like it hurt a lot.

"Who did this to her?" He said peering down at her.

"James." I answered in whispers.

He turned his head at me, taken aback.

"Just follow me to my room. We'll talk privately there." I said as I started to tip-toe my way up the stairs. He followed.

When we reached my room, I closed my door.

"I don't believe you." He said.

"Believe it. He was going to rape her. He was straddled on her when I rang the doorbell." I bluntly said.

"What!" He looked frantic. How else could you look when you are told one of your good friends was almost raped.

"I purposely forgot my worthless key at her house so I could go back. Good thing I did." I admitted.

"Why would you forget your keys?" Kyle asked.

"Because… didn't you see her face yesterday, even Friday? She looked fucking pale and in horror every time James appeared. No one noticed it, but me that is. It's not saying much for her boyfriend." I went on. "She admitted to me in the middle of the night that he had hit her on May. She only told me because I asked her about her face. I had no idea he sexually harassed her, until I talked to James the morning after. The pompous bastard. I knew she only invited us to defend herself from him. He did something to her. He hit her on May and she didn't do anything, rather than blamed herself. The only other significant abuse there is… well, sexual abuse."

"Wendy wouldn't sit back and cry if a man hit her." Kyle said.

"That's what you think." I said reaching in my drawers. "I stole her diary the other day to play a prank on her, or use it for blackmail. Kind of what I did to the rest of you." I saw Kyle glare at me. "What I found… well shit."

I handed it to him. "Read the third entry."

And he did.

_Third Entry, 2010, May 21_

_Dearest Diary,_

"_What a piece of work is a man…" Act two, scene two of Hamlet._

"_What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god! The beauty of the world, the paragon of animals"_

_Man is but the "quintessence of dust", right? Then why, if so admirable and "noble in reason" are we all crawling in our excrement? Why are we crying and rotting and sinking? What's wrong with us? Or rather, the men in population are all refined in such a way I cannot understand? Shakespeare perhaps understood. When I think of the people close to me, my doubt fades away; yet my anxiety grows and sways. If so, then what if me? What of __**him**__? I may know my own folly, but I'm not stupid enough to overlook his. I may be wretched, but so is he. I may not be worthy of many things, but I can tell an asshole when I see one. I feel like screaming. I feel like crying. Like throwing things in my room. The deep desire to break something. How! How the fuck could this happen! What have I done to deserve this! What's wrong with me! There has to be something wrong, right? I mean, things like this don't happen for a reason! Right! It was horrible. My mother went to Walmart to buy some things, and while she was there… __**he **__started his __**game **__again. I've never felt more scared and angry than of this moment. I've never felt such a lump in my throat as I do now. Pressed his body to my back as I was getting water from the fridge. As he did so, he wouldn't move, and he was practically pushing me to the fridge without his hands even touching me. Then it felt __**it**__! I want to throw up. I want the earth to swallow me whole. The worst part that __**it**__ was against my ass! He just stood there, breathing down my neck. I thought I was going to cry… I did afterwards. I almost threw up too. Then he left like nothing happened and locked himself in his study. As I went to my room in distraught, I saw my drawers where my underwear was open and shuffled. I found that three underwear and two bras were missing. That's when I broke down. I hate him… I hate him so much! Why can't… why can't he be the father that he pretends to be? Why can't he love me so and treat me so as he does when others are around? Why does he do this to me? There's something wrong with me, I know it. He says this is punishment. For what? What have I done? It surely isn't that bad… right? I don't know anymore. He says this is what I deserve. I believe him… what else do I deserve? I haven't really done anything… I have really said anything of importance… I'm just a mindless robot who does what is expected of her. Maybe that's what's wrong with me… maybe I'm not worth saving. Still… I know that he isn't better. I know that he… this is wrong. Very wrong. I can't tell my mother anything… she'll be crushed. Heart broken. It'll be my fault. So I'll just keep quiet for now. Maybe one day I'll find the courage to run away. I could run away and start anew… maybe take my sins off the slate. Despite that… I'm too much of a coward. That's what's wrong with me. I'm a coward._

When Kyle finished reading the entry he looked up at me with wide eyes.

"He was dry humping her and groping her when I knocked on the door. He hit her when she tried to escape. He was going to RAPE her." I emphasized. "When he left after he talked to me, she came running from the house after climbing out of the window. She was shaking and she said he cut her shirt open with a knife, so her bra was showing. I drove her home and after she told me everything and cried, she fell asleep. Then I came to you."

"Why me?" Kyle asked, knowing the answer already.

"I need someone else with manipulation skills to fight against James. I was thinking we send him away for a while before finding out what to do." I said.

"How?" Kyle asked.

"I honestly have no clue." I answered with a shrug.

"We shouldn't tell Stan. He'll overreact and ruin everything." Kyle said.

"Now you get me." I rolled my eyes as I reached for the door knob.

"Wait… why are you helping her?" He asked me.

"Well… first of all, I was surprised she wasn't the confident pain in the ass bitch I thought she was. She was actually the most insecure person I've ever met… and I've met Butters." I joked with a bitter smile. "Then I found out he hit her… and then this. I may be evil incarnated. I may laugh as others wither in pain, but I… I wouldn't be able to watch as I raped a woman. That's too low… even for me." I admitted sheepishly. I had to give away some of my character, not all, but enough for him to help me. If it meant revealing myself a little in order to save her, then so be it.

He looked thoughtful as I said that. "Well I guess even the devil has a heart." He smirked.

"Shut up. Don't compare me to that gaywad." I said.

He just chuckled.

When we trotted downstairs she was awake, just staring into the wall. When she heard us, she looked back, but was horrified to see Kyle with me.

"Wendy, are you okay!" Kyle said rushing to hug her.

She looked surprised and vulnerable, but most of all, pissed off. She turned to me to glare at me. "You told him…" She said in a low and dangerous voice.

"I had to." I admitted.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone else. We decided to find a way to send him away for a little bit, while we think of what to do about the situation in the meantime." He said, grasping on Wendy's shoulder.

She just stared at him for a long time. "How do you plan on doing that? I'm not even supposed to go to anyone else's house while my mom's gone. I can't be home alone, so that's why he's there." She said.

"That's why we bring in Stan as bait." I said suddenly.

They both looked at me. "But didn't we agree that Stan would ruin everything if we told him?" Kyle asked.

"That's why we don't tell him… or anyone else for the matter. James knows that I know, but he doesn't know that you know." I reasoned. "People will be around her in the house always. We make sure she won't be alone. If someone isn't with her, then you'll be the default. That was my plan since the beginning before I told you. What comes after, how we send him away when her mom comes back… I haven't gone that far yet."

Kyle nodded.

"Book tour…" Wendy said solemnly as she looked down to the couch pillow.

"What? I can't hear you, hippie." I say.

"Book. Tour." She said louder.

"What about book tours?" I asked.

"Wait… James' an author right?" Kyle asked Wendy.

I opened my eyes wider. "That's perfect! We make a few calls, we book him on a book tour!"

"Has he written any well publicized books?" Kyle asked her.

"Two… _Midnight Dusk_ and _Filth_. The others are just books that don't get much attention. He has a fan base with those two… and he's about to publish _Sin_, a continuation of _Filth_." She said tiredly and almost emotionally drained.

"We'll get right on it." Kyle assured her. "My dad has a few editor friends and I'm sure Cartman's big talk and his mom can pull a few strings."

"Oh, trust me, Wendy. If Kyle's connections and methods for information, and my manipulative and convincing nature don't work, then my mom can make any corporate guy bow down to her." I said.

Her lip twitched upwards in a sad and bitter smirk. "Thank you." She said, her eyes in a daze.

"For now, we'll get you cleaned up, and then we can you a top from Bebe. Then we get Bebe to hang out… no. Stan to hang out with you. I'm not leaving her alone with that son of a bitch. Especially in her condition." He said.

She nodded. "A man has to be with you at all times." She turned to me with an offended face. "Don't fight me. A woman might be equal, if you insist because I disagree, to a man in terms of rights and respect, but it's still widely known that women are weaker than men physically. If he actually starts something, Bebe wouldn't be able to throw a punch like Stan, Kyle, or Tweek. And when Kenny comes back, he will keep you company too."

"For now get Stan. He'll want to hang out with you… and James knows he's clueless once Stan starts talking to him." Kyle assured. "You call Bebe. You won't tell her about this, but just take a shirt with the excuse that you need one to look nice in front of Stan."

She nodded.

Good… this is working. This can work. We'll send James away on a book tour and deal with him later. At this point, Wendy went to the kitchen to talk to Bebe, and Kyle and I… well we hit the computers to secure the plan.

Don't worry Wendy! I'll keep you safe!

**A/N: Ugh, the end was Cartman in ooc… ignore it….**

**Also, hehe, another excerpt from Wendy's diary. **

**Kenny's coming back either in the next chapter, or the one after that. So hold on Kenny fans! **

**The book names, by the way… they are obviously fake. Don't go looking for them please. **

**Also, sorry it was such a short chapter. It was really a filler chapter that ignited the plan for the following Chapters. This chapter was just an explanation chapter. Wait for the next chapter! And look at my other stories too!**

**I'm not even going to reread the chapter, sorry if it has typos. **

**Also, one last thing. I have a comic up based on another story I'm writing called Bitter Chocolates (Wendy and Craig in Japanese school setting). I have like a few pages up already since it's new. Check it out, because I only have three fans on smackjeeves lol. **

**h tt p : / /w w w . s m a c kjee ve s. c o m /com i c profil ? i d=111 25 3**

**Take away the spaces! ^_^**


	7. What a piece of work is a man

"HOLY SHIT! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE!" Stan yelled. She had the door opened because I knocked it.

"Some asshole punched her while trying to rob her. She fell in the mud and her shirt got wet. I gave her my shirt." Cartman answered for me.

Stan looked at him suspiciously for a second before he cupped his hands on my face, peering worringly at my bruise. "Are you okay?"

I gave a carefree laugh. "Don't worry, the bastard got what he deserved."

He looked at Cartman confused by my statement. "Oh, I just happened to be at the convinience store. I punched the robber straight in the gut. The guy ran away. I thought I'd bring the dumb bitch to you. Seriouslah? Who the fuck gets robbed in the middle of the day?" He just had to be an ass about it all. Classic Cartman.

"Thanks." He said still rather suspicious to Cartman as he held me close. The warmth of his chest radiated and I inwardly felt grateful towards Cartman. If he didn't come when he did, James would have taken me. I want Stan to take me, and take me with my consent. That will come when I'm an adult and ready, not when some asshole wants to force me into it. I might deserve some of the things he does to me, but I know I don't deserve to be taken like this.

"That asshole kept bragging how strong he was the entire ride here." I rolled by eyes. "'Did you see that punch, hoe?' and 'Aren't I just the strongest guy in the world?'. It was so fucking annoying?"

Stan laughed in a relief fashion and looked at me adoringly. I swear he's too good for me. He really loves me, doesn't he? "That's good. Come on, you can rest here."

"Oh, I can't! I have to go back home. I was hoping you could hang out with me for a while. I'm still a little shaken up." I said. I have to stick with the plan. If my mom hears from anyone that I have been staying at someone else's house, I would get in trouble. At the same time, I need him to come with me so I don't stay alone at Jame's house.

Cartman had to be the one to come with me. If Kyle did then when Stan comes with me, he'll tell James that Kyle saved me. James would then know that Kyle is in the red, and whenever he comes to visit by default, then he wouldn't let him in. Although it makes Stan suspiscious, it works. Stan wouldn't think too much about it, though. Stan's like that. He doesn't pry or ask questions beyond what he needs to know. He accepts what others tell him. He doesn't trust Cartman, but he trusts me.

"Oh, sure. I did my homework anyways. You wanna go to your house for a bit before going out? We need to tell James what happened to you? He should be worried that you're not home by now." Stan asked me?

"S-sure." I had to swallow the gulp in my throat. I know realize, that although it was obvious before it never really hit me, that I had to see that man again today. I had to suffer under his suspiscious and threatening glare.

"Dude, can I come? I'm fucking hungry and this bitch said she'll treat me with fucking food for saving the dumb hoe." Cartman said, haughty and arrogant as ever.

"Yeah. Dude, for once, thanks." Stan smiled awkwardly towards Cartman.

We got in Cartman's ride and went to my house. The house had a heavy atmosphere when the car parked on the driveway. Stan didn't seem to notice it, but Cartman and I knew it well. I rang the doorbell, since my keys were at home, and James immediately opened it. He had his hair disheveled but his expression was calm... too calm.

He glanced at Stan, who seemed to be radiating with relief of my safety. "Afternoon, sir." Stan said.

James immediately caught on what was happening and he looked at me. For a second, I saw his eyes in a dangerous fixation. It was like he had me by the throat with just his glare. That went away as quickly as it came, and he hugged me with a faux worried expression.

I shivered in horror. His smell caught my nose and it made me sick and nauseous. Even now he held me so close that I felt my breasts pressed on his chest. I wanted to scream, scream and run, but I stayed.

"Oh God, what happened to you! You didn't come home or answer your phone. I was so worried!" I saw Cartman flinch and strain to stay still.

"I-I was... well... I was... I mean... I don't... please... I mean..." My tongue couldn't say anything. I couldn't speak. My voice trembled. At this rate, I would start crying. Someone interrupt me. Someone explain it for me. Can't anyone see that I **can't fucking talk**! _Stan_! Say something! Explain it to James for me! _**ERIC!**_

"She was robbed by some asshole. The guy punched her and she fell into the mud. I gave her my shirt. I brought her to Stan. We are going to stay here for a little while." Cartman said without a hint of anger or any emotion. It was blank and monotonous. I wanted to cry "thank you" to him. Why didn't Stan say anything? Why did he just stand there and watch me stumble? No... no, I shouldn't blame him. He can't read my mind... but... but Cartman knew when to help me. Well, that's because he knows the entirety of the situation.

"Come on in. I need to put ice on the bruise." James said, tugging me in the house. He did it in such a way that it looked like he was taking me to the kitchen calmly, but in reality he was pressing at my wrist, crushing it. Before I had a chance to do anything, Cartman took my hand away from him. "Dude, slow down." He laughed casually towards James. "She's still a bit shaken up." Before he handed me to Stan, I swear he rubbed my wrist softly. It was like he knew that James was crushing it earlier. All this was done so swiftly and casually that it wouldn't have raised any suspiscion against Stan.

"Okay, then. Follow me. I think I have some motrine for the pain. Does it hurt much?" James turned to me with a worried face. I had to answer this time. Cartman can't answer for me. It would look too weird. Come on! _Speak_ woman! "Y-YES! I mean, yeah. I hurts a lot. Motrine would be good."

"You have to eat before you take it though. I'll whip up something for all of you." He smiled at all of us, almost genuinely. If I didn't know what he would be capable of, I would believe him. "Does anyone have any requests?"

"Anything is fine." Stan said cheerfully.

"Y-yeah. Anything..." I said as well.

"I want a well done steak with mash potatoes, corn on a cob, and wild rice." Cartman said, almost challenging James.

"Dude." Stan whacked his on the shoulder. "Be fucking reasonable for once in your life."

"What? I saved her! I deserve to be given whatever the fuck I want!" Cartman complained.

"I'll just whip up everyone a sandwich. Is that fine?" James said. We all agreed (Cartman reluctantly). "I'm just glad Wendy's okay." James said finally.

"You should be." Cartman said without emotion.

Stan glared at Cartman. "You're so fucking rude." He hissed.

Cartman shrugged. "Beats being ignorant."

"What?" Stan asked confused.

"Nothing." Cartman sighed as he sat down on the couch.

I was given Motrine and a sandwich, and the three of us ate. All the while, James stared at me from the background. He had almost a condescending triumphant expression etched in his dark face. His face was dark (in the sense of expression) and almost threatening. It grew more and more oppressing throughout the time. Finally, Stan decided that we both should go somewhere. Cartman announced that he was leaving. This is where the plan takes effect. I had to say where to go quick before Stan picked a place.

"Let's go watch a movie!" I said. There was four movies available at eight. That would be about the time we got there. If we get out about two hours later, it would be ten. Stan would need to go home, but he would insist to take me. Fortunately, that's where Kyle comes up. He will take Bebe to watch a movie, and he would act as if he didn't expect to see Stan and me. When that happens, he would suggest that we all carpool to my house. Stan would go home, and Kyle would pretend to go home. Bebe would sleep over with me, because Kyle would suggest it. While we would be sleeping, Kyle and Cartman would be outside of my house in the night, taking shifts to watch over me. Kyle trusts Cartman with just me, but since Bebe would be there too, he would be viligant. That's the plan for today.

I'm so grateful for those two. I would have never guessed that they would care that much for me... then again, Kyle's there for Bebe, and because I'm Stan's girlfriend. Cartman's there because of his own reasons. There is no way he could be there for anybody for the sake of anybody. He's a sociopath. Even if... even if I were someone to be proud of... he wouldn't be there for me. He's not doing all of this for me. I need to keep reminding myself that. I can't let myself be swayed to thinking that way. I'm just the result to his reasons. That's all. Still... it would be nice to pretend that Cartman actually cares whether I'm fine or not. I know Kyle does, but to a degree. He's there out of responsibility that I'm his best friend's girlfriend, and because he's simply a good person. That's it. Jeez Wendy, don't get your hopes up. I need to see the reality of things. I'm too naive sometimes.

Still, it's a nice thought.

_**oOo**_

Dammit, where's that damn Jew? He's taking too long to get here.

I'm outside Wendy's house, behind the fence. I brought some proffessional spy kit shit or something. I got it from some spy two years ago. It was from some crazy adventure like always. I stole it from the guy, who ended up getting excecuted for it. Who the fuck cares anyways. He was not on our side. So I could hear anything going on in that house. No one knows it, not Kyle or Wends, but I put some chip with sound and camera under the table when I ate at her house. I also said I would go to the bathroom, so I put one there, and snuck into her room to put another there. I put them in very hard places to reach, places where it's not obvious to look.

I hear footsteps behind me. I turned to see Kyle sneaking behind me. "About time." I whispered, annoyed.

"Sorry, my mom's a hard person to sneak around." He whispered back. He saw my wireless earphones and my laptop. "What's that?"

"Surveillance." I answered.

"You bugged their house! That's illegal!" He whispered.

"It's illegal to attempt rape towards a minor." I answered. He just stood quiet. "Plus, the mother of your kid is there. I'm sure you want them to be safe."

I saw him fidget reluctantly before nodding. "Where are the bugs?" He asked.

"Under the dining table. So I can see the living room and hear everything in the kitchen, living room, and diner." I showed him camera one and channel one in my comuter. I gave him one side of my earphone. "Camera two can see part of the bathroom; I couldn't put it in a place that was that obvious, so sorry for the bad view. Despite that, Channel two on the earphones can hear everything going on in the bathroom. The last one is in her room. See," I pointed to camera three on my laptop. "you can see her sleeping with Bebe on the bed. You can also see her desk, but I can't see the door or her dresser. Still, I can hear everything going on in that room." I turned to him. "You're bitch's a snorer."

He shoved me in the shoulder. "Shut up!" He whispered. After a long time of us both waiting, he turned to me. "Why are you really doing this?" He asked me.

"To see what goes on? Jeez, I thought you were smart." I said.

"No, not the bugs. I mean protecting Wendy." He turned to me with a serious face.

Shit, I can't tell him the real reason. I only told James to get the upperhand and surprise him. To let him know how far I will go to protect her. If I tell Kyle... it'll reveal me completely. Still, I can't pass this off as nothing. He's too smart for that.

"I have my own reasons that I don't need to mention." Wendy didn't go further when I told her that, it was probably her self-esteem stopping from asking. If she was a confident person, then with her level of intelligence, she would have easily found me out. Kyle is a confident person, but I'm betting on the fact that he won't care about what I do or my reasons in order to ensure me of my escape. I know it's a tight hope, but it's something. I need to think of my response if worse comes to worse.

"Are you in love with her?" He asked bluntly. Of course, I knew he is the type to be direct with people. I knew it from the beginning of his question that he would answer me like this. I was just hoping that he'd be more discreet about it, at most that he wouldn't care to really know.

"Why would you even care?" Shit, I'm trapped. I can't do anything but avoid the question.

"You're avoiding the question." He sees me. Shit. I have to think of something quick.

"When I was little, about twelve or so... my mom was with this guy. He almost tried to kill me once in Stark's Pond. Wendy just happened to be there that night. She distracted the guy long enough for me to push him in the lake. She took my hand and we ran. Later that week, I took care of the bastard myself and let's just say he was lucky to get out within an inch of his life. I'm just repaying the favor. Nothing more, nothing less." Lies. All those where lies. None of that happened. My mom's men never went steady enough to even meet me or know my name. Kyle doesn't know that, though.

"Oh... so that's it. Still... you seem like you're bent to protect her. You're not one to keep promises, and if you are, you still wouldn't be as persistant as this." He observed. Good. He bought my lie, now I have the upper hand again.

"You know whenever I do something, I go all out. Also, I told you before, I give a damn about people, but I'm not about to let a girl be raped. Plus, I figured you have enough experience saving others from being raped." I smirked, remembering how once he saved me from being raped by Snooki.

He chuckled quietly. "Okay, I believe you." Yes. I won. "But I'll be watching you closer." He said rolling his eyes.

A long while passed before I thought it was safe to ask, "What would you have done if I said I was in love with her? Would you have gone all self-righteous on me about loyalty to friends or some shit?"

"No. I would have supported you."

My head snapped back in complete shock. I did not expect that. I would have never suspected that in a million years. Me? What the fuck! Isn't Stan his best friend! I'm his enemy! What... oh God, this is a brain malfunction...

Before I could even say anything, he whispered back, "If you were actually doing this out of love and not any other reason, I would have supported you." He looked at me. "Let's face it, Stan's not the brightest tool in the shed, and he's rather self-centered. He doesn't really think about anyone else that much, and when in a relationship, you need to think about the other person."

"And you would have thought that _**I**_ would be selfless?" I said in disbelief.

"There's a difference between being selfish and self-centered. You're selfish, but that's fine. There's nothing wrong with being selfish. In fact, I think there's something wrong with being selfless. When you're selfless, you don't think logically. You can be selfish as long as you don't affect the other person or impose your will on them. That's how it works." He said.

"Kahl... I don't know if you haven't noticed, but I'm always imposing on people. I thought you would be more than aware of that, since you're my number one victim." I said.

"No, you do impose, but it's not like you fucking love me. I think that you somewhat respect me." What? Is he fucking stupid? "If not, you wouldn't have thought of me as your equal."

"You're a Jew. Jews are below us Aryans." I answered plain and simple. It was true. No use escaping facts.

"Shut up." He hissed in a whisper. "I meant, mentally. Intelligence wise, you respect me. That's why we challenge each other."

"Hmm... I already knew that." I answered truthfully.

"Oh, so you're aware of your feelings and actions. I thought you would be the type to be in denial of everything." He admits.

"No. I can see things clearly. I know why I do things. That's what human beings are supposed to do, right? They're supposed to know why they do things, right? What's the point even feeling or thinking if you don't know why?" For once, it might have been the first time... but I really didn't fight with him.

"I agree. Humanity needs to know why and how. How the earth moves and why, why the sky is blue, and why we do the things we do. If we don't know, then why are we even here to begin with?" He turned to me. "Do you know what the worst type of people are?" He asked.

"People who have no idea why they do things. People without a purpose." I answered.

"No. I was thinking something else." He turned back to the stars. "People who just don't care."

I nodded. "Ignorance is something that no one can ever escape. In different aspects, we will always be ignorant. We know about gravity, but we don't know why it's there. If we try, but we don't find out why we do things, then at least we tried. Even if you don't try, if you don't know that you can figure something like that out, that's fine. People who know that they could not run from themselves, but still choose to do so or simply don't care enough to find out... those people are the real evil ones."

He smiled. "This might be the first time I ever thought of you as a human being."

"Don't get used to it." I said.

He chuckled softly and whispered back. "If you were to do something out of love, then I know that you would do anything possible and stoop to any level to do it. I can't say the same for Stan. I love the dude like a bro, but even I'm not blind to the fact that he's too dull and normal to even think this way. If you have the capability to love, and I'm saying this because I honestly don't know if you do, then you would do anything in your power to protect whoever or whatever you love. If you loved, then you'd still be an ass, but you would be someone to admire." He turned to me again. "Do you have the capability to love?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. I haven't ever loved anyone in my entire life. If I start one day, I'd call you and tell you. Is that a deal?" Lies.

He smiled, and for a moment he looked like a man beyond his years, beyond his era. "Deal, chubby."

The truth is, I've love quite a lot. I just choose to ingore it. I think it's better to hurt what you love before they ever start loving you. So then if they start loving you, and you hurt them by mistake, then it would hurt them even more. Even worse, if your love for them starts to grow, and they hurt you. I don't ever want to feel that pain again. My mother taught me that lesson very early. She was the first one to hurt me. I used to love her, then she proved to me how much she loved me, and it broke me. She didn't love me at all. She just felt guilty, she was just doing things because that's what "you were supposed to do". That's not how you do anything. You do things because it's your choice, not because it's the norm. You don't take care of a child that way. I learned that whenever she got drunk at an early age. That bitch lets out everything, her true character, when she's drunk. Then it was Mr. Kitty. He hurt me too, and that's when I learned another lesson. Sometimes when others hurt you, they don't mean to, they just do. One way to hurt someone is to just die. That got me thinking, what if I someday fall in love and get married. What if she dies first? I'd rather not know that pain. Then another lesson was school and friends. Already, I was deprived and living by that rule. Truth is, I complain about my friends all the time, but I love them (platonically of course). Kenny, Stan, and even Kyle. I think especially Kyle. That's why I hurt him the most out of the three. It's because I trust him and know him to the point where I can manipulate him with my eyes closed. I know exactly what he will say and do and I act according to that. Kenny comes in second. He is fucking awesome, though I'll never admit it out loud. He lets me be and doesn't ask me questions. He lives and lets live. He doesn't pry like Stan and Kyle, and he doesn't force things out of you like some nosey Jew I know. Still, when you need him, regardless of the reason (whether he knows about the reason or not) he's there. Stan is okay. He's our level head. He's the normal one, the one that reminds us of reality. I like that about him. Still, I hold a grudge against him for having Wendy.

Wendy... she probably was the only one I ever really loved romantically. She did hurt me though, just like my friends have. In the fourth grade... she kissed me, but she immediately let it go and went back to Stan. I liked that Wendy, she was confident (despite being a bitch). Still, the reason why I hurt them all, and keep my distance, is because they all regard me as something that can take punches. They think that I don't care about them, and that they can say or treat me anyway they want to just because they think I won't get hurt. Damn fucking dicks. That's why I don't like my friends, not because of anything else. It's because they didn't fucking bother to waste the time to figure me out. No one did. No one ever tried to figure me out. No ever tried to actually get to know me, they just sat down with the impression they had of me. Fucking dicks. Still, Kyle has tried to a few times before. Even Wendy. I remember middle school, when she really tried to figure me out. Even though I hate how they treat me, I know it's better that they do this. If they were to be nice to me, and me be nice to them, then they would eventually hurt me. I'm not doing this for them, I'm doing this for me. This is my selfishness. I do impose on people. In order to not have myself be hurt, I hurt others. It's even gone to a point where I get happy when I hurt them. They know I'm here, and they know I exist, but they don't get too close. Get close enough, and I'll bite. But I'll bark loud enough for you to hear me, so that you'll never forget me. I'll also bite deep enough for you to think twice before coming close, but not so deep as so you would leave. I know the limits of others, and I play with it back and forth. That's how I want it always. Me in control of others. When I'm in control, I get to choose where they go. I get to choose what happens and how it happens. If they even have an ounce of control, that's when I get screwed over. It's happened times before.

It was almost sunrise. Kyle snuck back into his house, and I waited a little longer. When morning came, I left, still the earphones in my ear, hearing everything just in case. Kyle should go back in the morning to pick up Bebe. Then they are going to go somewhere with Wendy. That's the plan. For now, I have to trust that Jew. He doesn't even know it, but I suggested Bebe to be there for his bait. He would be even more viligant to do something if Bebe was with her. His success rates would sky-rocket. Especially since he's going to be a dad.

For now, while they're gone, I need to make some phone calls. I need to book a tour for James on the day her mom gets back. I need to do so. I have cameras and sound recorders wired and bugged in her house. If anything ever happens and I need proof, I'll show those. Of course not to the police, but let's say to her mom or another friend if I need to in the future. You need to plan ahead when you do something and think of every possible avenue. Think about what the person would do, and all their choices, and prepare for all of them. Never leave a choice out because it sounds out of character or unreasonable. If you do that, there's a bigger chance of you losing. And with Wendy at stakes, I can't leave any room for losing. None whatsoever.

I will protect her, simply for the fact that I love her.

**A/N: So... a little philosophy anyone? **

**So sorry about not writing for a long while. I write when I feel like writing. That's what writers do. Still, I promise not to be like other writers where you have to wait almost a year to read their next chapter. **

**Oh, sorry I put a bit too much Kyman. I'm a really big (super big) Kyman fangirl, so it's very hard not to write Kyman. Like incredibly hard, but don't worry! This is a CANDY fan fict. **

**So... if anyone wants to have a philosophical debate over the interent, just add a review, kay? I agree with everything Kyle and Cartman said, except with Cartman's two long paragraphs rambling about hurting others in order not to be hurt. Besides that, the selfish thing, the why thing, the planning thing, I agree. So if you agree or disagree, you can debate with me. No, seriouslah. I love to debate. :D**

**So what do you guys think is going to happen? You think Cartman's lie will come to bite him in the ass one of these chapters? Also, is James going to get his fill? And the most important aspect of all of this: WILL CARTMAN EVEN END UP WITH WENDY! To tell you the truth, I haven't even decided that. I love reading and watching happy endings, but I love writing sad endings. Depends which mood I'm at in that day. What? I can't torture my readers? **

**Read my other shit. :D **


	8. Nothing can come of nothing

The sun shined in a bright flash on my eyelids. My lids flinched open and I shied my face away from the sun rays coming out in thin sharp lines from the window shades. I breathed in sharply and buried my face in my soft pillow. I turned a bit and opened my eyes, they were in such a position that no one would be able to see I had them slightly open. My hair covered the top half of my face. As I opened my eyes and my gaze fixated to the wooden doors and an Emilie Autumn poster, I nearly screamed. James was there, in the tight spaces of the door slightly and barely open. His face was staring at us, and his eyes glazed with a sick lustful expression. I felt my lip tremble, and I realized I couldn't move. I couldn't even gasp. Everything was too sharp of lines. Like the vector shapes of a digital image. The shadows enveloped his form, like a dark mist, and only the whites of his eyes glared back clearly and brightly. A thin line of light from the window shades slid across the mid of his eyes and the bridge of his nose. I was paralyzed. Someone help. Oh God, his stare has immobilized me. I can't...

"James..." I whispered unconsciously. My vision blurred in my left eye as tears spilled out.

No shocked reaction, no slight gasp... he smiled darkly. I immediately sat up with a jolt. His smile widened and he turned and left. I wanted to scream, and I wanted to cry, but Bebe woke up next to me.

"Hmm, that was a good sleep." She slid her arm around my waist and tugged as if to say lay down again. "What are you doing sitting up. It's like seven, Wends."

I couldn't answer her, my voice would squeak. My voice would give me away. I can't do or say anything. If I move, I'll scream for sure.

"Wends?" I felt her sit up. She leaned fowards and I stayed. I can't move. I can't or I'll scream. She saw me, she saw my tears and my expression. What do I say? What do I do?

"Wends? Are you okay?" She asked worried and serious.

I can't move. I'll scream! I can't move! My throat is tightening. I can't breathe!

"WENDY!" She screamed almost angrily.

I flinched and looked at her. I snapped out of it. The tightness is half gone, and I can speak and move again.

"Oh... uh. Sorry. Bad dream." I smiled with wide eyes still full of fear. My head bowed down in embarrasment.

"Was it that bad?" She asked.

I simply nodded, feeling the tears swell up and spill already. "Can... Can you lend me your shoulder?" I said with a trembling voice.

She nodded and I cried quietly on her. During which I almost felt eyes on me from the door's crack. I didn't dare look, and I cried harder. Go away, James. Please... just go.

After a while I calmed down and she and I went down for breakfast. I had to get a grip of myself. I had to calm down. I need to calm down. She had her arms slumped around my like yesterday morning. "I'm not good in the mornings." She chuckled as she trudged down reluctantly. "Couldn't we have stayed and slept for like a billion years?" She joked.

"I'm hungry." I lied. I had to go down there. For my sake. I had to face him. I had to face this. Kyle is coming soon. Nothing will happen to me. Bebe is here. Kyle wouldn't let anything happen to her.

I saw him waiting by the front door with coffee in his hands. He glanced up and without so much of an emotion, I felt like he was almost challenging me. Was... was he daring me? To what? Tell! I nearly gasped from the realization, but I held it in. He has something planned. He has something planned. What is it? What can he possibly have up his sleeves? I felt my face whiten. Bebe suddenly stopped and turned to me.

"Is everything alright?" I asked her.

"Yeah..." She said almost suspiciously. I must be imagining.

As we ate, I tried to be casual about things, but something was wrong with Bebe. Is it because I cried on her this morning? I've done so before. She's done so when she's had a bad dream. There's nothing to be suspicious about.

"Can you get me my jacket Wends? I just got a text from Kyle that he's coming to pick us up." She was almost beaming when she hinted at the baby and Kyle being a good father.

"Sure." I said, and climbed up the stairs to my room.

When I got there, I found her jacket. I picked it up and when I turned James was standing directly in front of me. I almost screamed but he pressed his hands against my lips. He pushed me on the bed and he trapped me by placing his knee aginst the edge of the bed, over my body.

He bent down to my ears while I trembled. He said, "You're being too obvious." His whisper was cold and cruel. "Stop raising suspicion if you don't want me to punish you later." I squeaked softly in terror. He used his other hand to pull my hair back. I didn't dare let out a scream. "Don't you dare make a noise. Once I'm done with everything, that fat boy won't be able to protect you any longer." He hissed in my ears. "If your friend down there even shows the slightest sign of suspicion, I will not hold back." He grinned sickly and placed his lips against my neck. I shivered and felt tears swell up in my eyes. He licked me and tighten his grip of my body with his legs. Not here. Oh God not here.

And just as fast as he came, he abruptly left. He left the room completely and went into his office.

"Hey Wends? You found my jacket yet?" I heard Bebe call out to me.

Speak. "Y-yeah! It took a while to find. It was under the bed. You're such a restless sleeper." I joked. "I'm coming down." Move. I started to walk out of my room and I glanced to James office. He was standing there, looking at me harshly. It was as if he was telling me "or else". I trembled slightly and continued to walk. I had to take away the expression on my face before I reached down the stairs. I closed my eyes and breathed. When I saw Bebe, I had such a fake smile on my face. I hated it. I looked so fake, I know it. Still, she didn't seem to notice. I turned and noticed Kyle standing by the doorway.

"Ready?" He asked Bebe. She nodded and Bebe steped forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. I followed along coyly. So this is how people usually felt when tagging along with Stan and me. I feel like I'm intruding on them. Like I'm the third wheel. I guess I am.

"Dude, guess where we're going?" Kyle asked.

"We're going somewhere?" Bebe said.

"It was Token's idea." Kyle said. I jolt a little at the mention of my ex-boyfriend's name. Although I was about nine when I dated Token, Stan still gets pretty jealous when I hang out with him. Please let Stan be wherever we're going. "He wants a bunch of us to go to the arcade." He turned to me. "Wanna come? Stan'll be there." Oh, I see. Bebe didn't even know I was coming. She must think I'm weird because I was following them outside. If anything I'll just say that I was going to bid them goodbye outside and them go back inside.

"Well, sure. But won't everyone be surprised when they see this?" I pointed to the bruise on my face.

"Just tell them what you told me." Bebe giggled. "Jeez, you worry too much, hun. Where's the confidence you always carry? You seem out of it lately." She said.

I straightened up. "It's here. What? I'm not allowed to be human once and a while?" I laughed. I can't give her any suspicions. I hate having to play two-faced. I hate having to pretend I don't want to cower under the covers all the time. I wasn't ever this way... why am I so insecure and shy now? Oh... that's right. Something I did. The reason James acting like this... it's because of something _I_ did. I did something to trigger it didn't I? Maybe I wasn't decent enough at home and he got tempted. Maybe I did something that he's punishing me for. Maybe it's because I'm interferring with my mother's happiness. I didn't like him in the beginning, so maybe he noticed and is punishing me for not being happy for my mom. I get it, James. I do. So I'll be quiet. I'll stay quiet and I won't tell her. I won't ever tell her. I don't want to be the reason she's unhappy. I don't want to be at fault. I don't like this heavy burden I'm already carrying. I don't want to make it heavier.

I saw Kyle smile sadly at me. "We're going to the arcade." Was it because he knows why I'm off lately. It can't be about the confidence thing... that would mean that someone told him. Also, how could anyone tell him if no one knows. No one but me. Sure I wrote it all in my diary, but- wait... my diary went missing... didn't James take it? My eyes widened and my expression turned into a glare. During the whole ride there, I was glaring daggers at Kyle. He knows about my diary someway or another. Still, he's not one to pry into the personal space of others. He could never have... THAT BASTARD! It was Cartman, wasn't it! That's how he knows everything. I hope for his sake Cartman's not there in the arcade, because if he is... there will be no escape!

We stopped at the mall and went towards the arcade. I took Bebe's hand away from Kyle. "I'm playing bully-Kyle today." I simply said haughtily. Kyle looked shocked and confused. Bebe just giggled, since she loves to play games with everyone.

"Okay, but how come?" She asked eagerly.

I turned back to Kyle, in a way that Bebe could not see my face, and said with a dark expression, "_He_ knows why, along with _Cartman_." He looked taken aback... then he had a sense of realization in his eyes. He averted his eyes in shame and followed behind us.

"Cartman?" Bebe asked.

"You know that fatass is an asshole." I said. "I just didn't think Kyle would play along."

"Ah, I see. You joined in their mental game or something. You three are always keen on psychological warfare." She laughed lightly. "It's almost like you all know each other's motives. Though I'm surprised, Wends. You never ever bash head with Kyle."

"Well, that's my fault, babe. Let Wendy pout as long as she wants. She just figured something out, that's all." Kyle said behind us.

"Is Cartman going to be there?" I asked without turning back.

"Yeah." He answered.

I felt the corners of my lip twitch up. "Good." I said darkly.

Bebe giggled. "You looked so scary, hun!" She giggled as we walked faster away from Kyle.

Kyle groaned in annoyance. "Don't play along with her, babe." He called out to Bebe.

"Sorry darling, but chicks before dicks." She giggled.

Kyle looked almost offended by the phrase. He pouted like the hot-tempered Jew he is. What? Girls can't have their own phrase that mirrors, "Bros before hoes?"

When we got there, I saw Token, Stan, Clyde, Red, Tweek, and the Fatass himself. I didn't even say anything to Stan, didn't even glance at him as he waved. I fixated my gaze on the fatass and walked directly at him. The others seemed confused, but at the moment I was so pissed I had to let it out. He backed up a little in the same confused manner, and I kneed him where it hurts. He fell to a thud and groan and I kept walking towards the paying counter without so much as a word or glance.

"What the fuck... you b-bitch!" Cartman let out after a while.

"That was awesome!" Clyde said cheering. Token politely dismissed the concerned witnesses. Stan came behind me and gave me a giant kiss. He had a huge, proud smile in his face. Good, let them all watch. Let them smile. That fatass deserves it. In the background I heard Tweek scream in anxiety. Red calmed him down.

I turned around and waited for them all to pay. Kyle helped up the fatass while containing a laugh.

"What're you laughing about, Jew!" Cartman growled.

Hmph. Let him be pissed. Good.

I don't care.

_**oOo**_

What. The. Fuck. Just. FUCKING. HAPPENED!

I was getting all fucking psyched that the plan was working and that no one suspected anything. If they did, it would ruin everything and she wouldn't be safe. I went to the arcade and had to take the annoyance of Butters along the ride (he's in the bathroom for anyone that gives two shits), and that damn annoying Stan; and after doing that for her sake so the plan could work... she knees me in the crotch! What the flying FUCK! GOD DAMMIT, THAT SHIT HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKING BITCH! How fucking ungrateful! Secretely though... I liked to see her confident. How and why she was like that was the question. It made me wonder despite everything, is she really the insecure girl in that diary or what?

"What the fuck... you b-bitch!" I groaned as I laid on the ground. Kyle was laughing like the backstabbing Jew he was. It's probably his fault. God, it's always his fault I'm in pain. I swear Hitler should have ignored Russia and cleaned out the Jews when he got the chance. If not... then I wouldn't be on the floor with this massive amount of pain. Seriously? Why does this hurt so fucking much! I'd rather she punch me than this!

The Jew helped me up. "What're you laughing about, Jew!" I growled to the kike.

He leaned down and whispered, while everyone wasn't looking, "I think she found out about the diary thing." I stood up. "She's mad at me too, bro." He said.

"Enough to knee ya in the croth?" I hissed.

"No. She probably figured it was you who took it in the first place." He said, that smirk still visible on his damn face.

"Did you-"

"No. Bebe said something, and I smiled sadly. That's probably how she put two and two together." He said.

SO IT WAS THAT KIKE! "Damn you..." I growled. Come on! I mean, if I would have never read it, then I would have never known all this! It was my manipulative self that saved her ass!

Butters came out of the bathroom as everyone was leaving. "Hiya, fellas." He said to everyone who ignored him. I did the same. "Say Eric, why you walkin' funny?" Little damn bastard! I shoved him to the side like trash. "Just shut the fuck up, fag." No one cared enough to help him up, as always.

"I'm going to the car stations if anyone wants to join." Red said and Clyde followed. Bebe, Wendy, Stan, and Butters went to that stupid Dance Dance Revolution shit. Kyle, Token, and I went to the gun games.

"Dude, what the fuck did you do to Wends?" Token laughed as he shot some zombies.

"Same thing I'll do to you if you don't shut the fuck up, you black asshole." I retorted.

"A dick as always I see." He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Kyle interrupted as he reloaded.

Token glanced at Kyle. "What?"

"I mean, he's gotta be something more degrading than a dick, right? Like a cocksucker. Yeah, that's Cartman." The kike is fucking pushing his limits today!

Token laughed and I screamed, "SNEAKY JEW!"

_**oOo**_

Stan had his arms around my waist as we waited for the _Dance Dance Revolution _station to be unoccupied. I liked that feeling, of someone holding my waist tight and firm. It's like they don't ever intend of letting me go. My anger subsided and I was happy. I was excited and eager. Dare I say, I was bold! Stan lowered his lips to where my neck was. My eyes widened and I flinched back. James had licked me there, I can't let Stan touch me there.

"Dude, what even?" He laughed.

"Sorry." I smiled nervously. "Your breath went in my ear."

He laughed. "Sorry." He apoligized.

"It's open." Bebe said cheerfully. She turned to me with a light smile. "Ready to get beaten, hun?"

"You always beat me in this game." I chuckled.

I'm not particularly bad, but I'm not as good as Bebe. She plays this when she's bored in her house. I played in medium mode and she played in hard. I missed some here and there, but I got a B. When I lost, which was inevitable, Butters came to step up my place. I didn't expect much from him. He's really clumsy and awkward. I've seen his dance moves before... they're not something to be proud about. Still, I smiled cheerfully as I awaited for them to dance. To my suprise and Bebe's frustration, he beat her at expert mode. I swear all our jaws dropped. This boy... has got the twinkle toes! Although something this stupid and simple happened, it got me thinking: Maybe I don't give Butters enough credit. He was better than I thought at something I thought he sucked at... maybe I should also give myself a little bit more credit. Maybe I'm actually not the one at fault at everything. With just this hope, my shoulders peeled back a little, and my chin rose straight up. Maybe I should be proud of myself. Maybe I owe it to myself after all these years. I was someone to be proud of when I was small. I'm still young... and I have a whole life ahead of me. I can do some good, right? I can be good!

Stan and I seperated from the rest and we went on to play a driving game. It was in a secluded little container, the openings covered with sheets of fabric. It was for two and there were two driving chairs and wheels, but one screen.

"How about this one?" He asked.

"Sure." I smiled.

I really feel better than I have in a very long time. Despite all that's happened, I feel better. I could thank Butters, but really he didn't get me to think this. I could even thank Kyle, but that doesn't seem like the right person to thank.

"Dude!" Stan laughed. "Stop pushing me to the rail!"

I think... I think Cartman is the one I should thank. Although he stole my diary, he, and not only through the diary incident (through the entire plan and since the beginning), had given me my fire back. He had given me a chance, if even for a day, to smile without any worries.

I laughed without a care. "If you don't want to lose then fight back!"

Cartman, I hope you saw my smiling face from afar today. I hope you saw my shoulders peeled back and my chin held high. I didn't notice, but my shoulders started to hurt from always having them slumped forward. My neck began to grow stiff from keeping it down.

"Last round, Testaburger! Prepare to lose!" Stan chuckled.

I hope you're proud. I know you don't care about me, but at least I hope you know that this careless smile was your fault. This direct gaze to the future and this soaring in my heart was your doing.

"Delusions aren't endearing, Stanley." I giggled.

I don't care about your reasons. I care about the results you gave me. The results outweighed your meaning. Thank you... Eric.

"You're right, Wendy. Delusions aren't endearing." A cold voice said from behind the fabric.

My heart dropped to my stomach, and my confidence zapped out, like the lights from a switch. My eyes were wide in fear, and my throat clenched in on itself. It couldn't be. How? Not here. It can't be!

The fabric was torn open in a gradual speed, slowly peeling off the remains of my happiness away. Not even away from the house I can escape his harsh glare. He was slowly, his gloved hands on the fabric, actually peeling open the scabs of the wounds he left me. He was reopening the fear within me. I can't ever have a moment to myself. I can't ever last long with a careless smile. I can't ever laugh without restraint. He'll be lurking over a corner, and he'll be there... watching... waiting for the moment to peel the scabs... to peel the remains of all I hold dear... my pursuit of happiness is in shams.

"James?" Stan said and the game shut down to an end. The game was over. The fun was done. It was ruined abruptly before it could finish properly. This was a sign, wasn't it... this was a sign. I'm not allowed to have happiness. I don't deserve happiness! "Is everything alright?"

"No. Your mother called me." His faux gaze turned back to me. "We need to go."

I nodded slowly. How did he even find me. "Is she alright?" Stan asked.

"Yes. She's fine, Stanley. She just called for a favor. I need Wendy to come now with me, if that's alright with you." He said with a gentle face. Don't make such a face... please. This doesn't fit. You're like the wrong shape from another puzzle trying to fit into this puzzle. You don't belong. Your face doesn't belong.

"Come on, Wendy. I'll drive you home." He said. "I overheard your friends say where you were. Thank God I found you, you left your phone at home." He smiled.

I didn't leave it at home.

"Goodbye, Stanley. Have a nice day." He said.

"Have a nice day James. I'll go tell the others." He smiled.

No... Stan... don't let me go with him. Do something. Do anything. Someone. ANYONE! _**HELP ME!**_

He grabbed my hands and with his cold fingers, pulled me out of the game station. I wanted to flinch and pull my hands away. The touch from his cold fingers gave me a sense of dread and disgust, almost like touching the corpse of a decaying body. Still, I resisted the urge. I looked around me, no one I knew was around. I couldn't find Kyle's face. I couldn't find Cartman's face. No one would be able to help me, right? No one would save me, right! I'll be taken tonight. I'll be taken without consent. I'll be taken... and I can't do anything about it.

May God help me.

_**oOo**_

"Hey, Soccer Mom, where's the hoe who kicked me?" I asked Bebe, pouting by a water fountain. Butters was had a proud smile in his faggy face. I don't even want to know what happened.

"She went with Stan." She said.

I wanted to apologize to her for stealing her diary. Well... I didn't want to, but Kyle was making me do so. He said if I don't, he'll tell Wendy that I bugged her house. I don't want another kick to the groan. I get chills from thinking about it. That girl doesn't look it, but she's got the knee of Iron Man.

I looked around for the pussy jock. Red poof ball... red poof ball... red poof ball... red poof ball... THERE! Found it! I walked over to him. He had the game card in his hands and was at another station.

"Where's the bitch?" I asked, my hands in my pocket.

"Don't call her that, fatass." He smirked at me. Probably from joy of seeing me get kicked.

I tightened my glare at him. "The kike's making me apologize."

He quirked his brow. "Does Kyle have something on your ass?"

"Yeah. If I don't do it soon, he'll spill." I admitted. "Just tell me where she is so I can get it over with, dumbass."

"She left with James." He said.

My heart stopped. If I didn't have my feet spread apart on the ground, then I would have fallen. I would have fallen from having the wind knocked out of my stomach. How did he find her here? "W-what...?" I asked, my voice soft and almost in a tremble.

"He said somehting about an emergency with her mom. Her mom's fine though, something about a favor. Anyways, he took her away. He scared me good, though. I didn't expect to see him here, but he's always-"

"WHEN _**THE FUCK **_DID THEY LEAVE!" I roared without shame, clutching at his shoulders.

"Woah! Calm the fuck down! Literally like a minute ago. What the fuck is your-"

I didn't give him time to finish. I dashed off to the exit. Screw him. I don't care if he's suspicious. Right now I have to get to her. I have to run. Anywhere. Somewhere. The parking lot. Just let me find her in time! DON'T LET IT BE TOO LATE!

_**oOo**_

I was wrong. This was wrong. I don't deserve happiness. This is my sign. This is my reminder to that fact. He is my reminder to my guilts and my sins. I was hair brained to believe that I could be happy without care without being punished for it later. Still... I don't want this. Oh God... don't let me go through with this. The tears swelled up in my eyes and we reached the parking lot.

Suddenly, there was a sharp buzz.

"Don't answer it." He said, his voice dripping in venom.

He began to walk. My phone buzzed again, nonstop. "They'll be suspicious." I pleaded with my head down.

"Then make up an excuse later." He turned back to me with a large, sordid grin. "You've been good at those lately."

I trembled under his sordid glare. _It's noted, James! I'm going to be taken! Don't gloat! Don't remind me! Just... please... spare me. _I pleaded so in my mind.

We continued walking. He found his car. I was about to get in the car when a hand from behind me swooped in front of my face. I was pulled back and into warm arms. The back of my head was against a warm chest and my torso was blanketed with large and secure arms.

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!" A familiar voice roared. I turned back to see Cartman with a deadly glare fixated towards James. His voice sounded intimidating and desperate.

"Eric. How-" I began, but was cut off.

"I am her current guardian. I wish to take her for good reasons." James spoke calmly.

Why is it Eric who always saves me. Why is it him that knows exactly when to come... exactly when to pull me away just when I was giving up hope. Why is it always him? Eric... how do you know?

"I want proof." He growled low and dangerous. He gripped me tighter, as if he never wanted to let go. I couldn't help but blush at the thought.

"I don't need to show you. You have no right. You're just a foolish child." He said, calmly and coldly.

"That may be, but I won't let her go with you, even if they arrest me!" He said in a defiant and desperate voice. I could feel his grip tighten more and his body tremble. Was it from rage? Or was it from desperation?

"Then I'll call the police." James threatened.

"If ... it has to be her choice to go to you. If not, then you are abducting her! You aren't her father! You aren't her blood! You have no right to take her by force!" He yelled defiantly.

James' eyes turned to me in ominous glares. That was his glare, one that held me by the throat. His glare was one that sucked all life and rebellion in me. I started to spill tears from my eyes. "Well?" He began. "Your mother is waiting for you. Don't you want to see her?" He asked me.

I gasped slightly. My mother's here? He won't do anything if my mother's there.

"Mom's here?" I asked, getting hopeful.

"HE'S LYING!" Cartman hissed. I turned to him with wide eyes. "Didn't you say that your mother would be here by Monday? It's still Sunday, Wendy." He said.

"Flights can come early, Wendy." James said, his oppressive glare softening. "She said she missed you."

No... that's not fair, James... how can... how can I refuse her? She misses me... she misses me.

"You didn't even say goodbye to the others. How about Kyle? Bebe? Tweek? You didn't even say goodbye to me!" He said, almost pleading for me not to go.

I turned to him in shock, his furrowed brows twisted in a pained pleading.

"Well then, Wendy." James said. "Bid him goodbye and come. Your mother is waiting."

Everything was silent. There was a piercing, long beep. It forced itself into my ear, and everything went in slow motion. My mouth was sluggish, my arms where limp. My eyes were wide and alert, but my head almost swayed in motion. Then suddenly...

"Okay." I said. "I'll go with you." James smiled.

"WENDY!" Cartman yelled in... is that fear?

"But I need to call my mother first." I said.

"What?" James answered with wide eyes. "But she's waiting and we need to hurry." He said.

"We wasted about five minutes just now, she won't mind another second." I said. Where was I getting these words. These words weren't mine. They weren't connecting to my mind. What am I saying? Whatever has possessed me to say all this... I'm glad. "My mom told me I shouldn't waste money. I paid good money for the game cards in there. The game card expires today." That was a lie. The game card expires in June.

I saw Cartman smile from my peripheral view. James stood almost paralyzed. He furrowed his brow in anger. "Wendy, I don't think you're understanding the-"

I didn't let him finish. I took out my phone and called my mother in front of him.

"Hey? Hun? You alright? I'm in the middle of something." She said.

"Oh? Hey, when are you coming again? I forgot." I said cheerfully.

"Hun. I told you and James, tomorrow afternoon." She laughed in the same graceful tone as always. "Well, I'm with a client, Wends. I'll talk to you later tonight. Bye. Smooches." She said.

"Bye mom. Smooches." I said, and then I hung up. I looked up to James who seemed to have a defeated expression. "I think you made a mistake. Maybe you were working too hard writing your book. Mom said she is coming tomorrow afternoon just as planned before." Why was my voice so stern? I was trembling inside, but I had my shoulders peeled back and my head held high again. My voice was strong and stern, and my stance unwavering. What is this? I thought of Cartman. Could this be your doing? Could this sudden confidence come from you being here, Eric?

"Well... my mistake. Perhaps you're right, I have been working too hard on my book. I'll see you at home, Wendy." He turned away, but not before saying, "You're not allowed to bring in friends today to sleep over."

"My mom has not set in those rules." I said. I can't fall apart now... I have to keep staring directly. "She said that I can bring in my friends whenever I want while she's gone. You can't go over her rules. You're just James."

He turned his head back with his jaw open. Cartman's arms were still around me, but his grip loosened, and he stopped trembling. They were still warm and comforting. His arms, and the motion of his chest moving up and down from breathing, gave me the strength I needed to say those words. I see that now.

"I'll tell your mother of your disrespect." He growled, losing his cool.

"I'll tell her about this. How you refused my friends from my house. How you said all this in front of Eric." I felt Eric gasp slightly at the mention of his first name. "I'll also tell her that I followed all her rules till the end. That I didn't disobey. I was a good girl the entire time."

He swiftly turned away from me and got into his car. He turned on hte ignition and pulled back. Cartman pulled me back so the car wouldn't hit me. With that, James was gone. That's when the fear hit me. He'll punish me for it all later. He'll have no mercy.

_**oOo**_

It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Her voice was strong and firm, and her posture was straightened. Her held was shameless and her eyes direct. Her head was clear and alert, waiting and calculating to strike. This was the woman I fell in love with. This was her. This was her beauty. This confidence that I missed for so long. Her defiance and her courage is what I have been waiting for. She was glowing, and she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. When she was like this, no one could stop her. No one could tumble her. She owned the world and with pride. I loved her so much. I never wanted to let go of her, and I wanted to embrace her and take in her lips and press her against me tightly; I wanted to scream to her, "WHERE WERE YOU ALL THESE YEARS!" and make this Wendy stay. Still, I let her go. I let her and the Wendy I loved so much slipped away as quick as she came. She turned to me with wide, afraid eyes. Her eyes had tears in them, and her posture weakened. She was trembling. I still loved this Wendy, even if she wasn't the one I wanted to see. I would protect this Wendy, so that the other one would always have a chance to come out without restraint. I would protect her.

"Wendy, that was-" I was interrupted by a sharp pain. She slapped my cheek and I rocked my head to the side. I placed my hands on my cheek and clutched at the already forming bruise, because that was one HELL of a bitch slap!

"That was for my diary!" She yelled. Before I could complain or say anything, she tackled me to a ground in an embrace. She laid on top of me, with her arms around my neck and her face buried in my chest. "This is for saving me." She said in a smaller voice.

I put my hand on her hair and she started to cry. I simply stroked her hair soflty and sighed. Although my cheek was throbbing and my ass numb from falling down when she tackled me, I couldn't have felt happier. She cried on me for a few minutes, and I was so happy. This warmth... this warmth may be the only time I'll ever feel it. I don't want her to part away, but I know she'll have to. I know we will have to go back.

We got up, and she tried her tears. We waited for her face to return to normal (no red eyes or nose) and went back. When we returned, they looked at us with worried faces. She gave the excuse that James was mistaking on something, and that she ran into me on the way back. I, apparently, came running to her begging her to forgive me or else Kyle will spill the beans on whatever he has on me (which wasn't even that important anyways. What a bitch! I save her, and she makes me look like the fool!). I acted inappropriate so she slapped me. Then we came back... that was the excuse she came up with without consulting me... fucking bi-... why do _I _have to look like the pathetic guy!

The day went on as planned, and I explained everything to Kyle when we were alone. He seemed worried, but happy that Wendy was alright.

Now we have to be more careful. We can't close our eyes shut for even a second. If we do... she's gone... and there might not be a window opened to save her next time. I have to protect her... no matter what!

Wendy, keep on growing in confidence. Keep your head looking forward and your stare direct and clear. Keep your back straight and your stance unwavering. Keep your mouth like that, in a clear smile. I saw it. I saw your smile today. It was so beautiful. It was so graceful and dignified. I wanted to see that smile forever on your face. I wanted to tell everyone that it was my plan to keep James away that made you smile like that. I wanted to scream to the world that your confidence was peeking back out, and it was because of my plan. I wanted to see your teeth bared without shame forever. Wendy, promise me something. Although you can't read my mind at the moment, I want you do do something for me. Keep looking forward, and never look back. Keep smiling without shame and with direct and clear eyes. Keep growing in confidence, because when this is all over... I'll come on to you. I don't care about Stan. I never did. I won't hold back. My own insecurities about others hurting me... I'll banish them away only for you. I've seen the way you are when it counts the most today. You were strong and bright, like the sun who blinds all who dares to stare at it. Stay that way, and as long as you do, I'll gather up the courage to fight for you. When all this is over... I'll make you mine, Wendy. I'll make you fall in love with me.

Wendy... I want you by my side!

**A/N: Did anyone else get chills with reading that last paragraph? I know I did when writing it. **

**Wow, this story is getting interesting to write again. I got a bunch of new ideas for the everything. Everything is playing accordingly to my plan. Soon I'll make you all cry and laugh and beg me for Candy. I have you... IN THE PALM OF MY HANDS, READERS! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!**

**No, seriouslah... hope you liked it! Sorry it was so long... I got to caught up in the story line... my characters are developing, aren't they? At least, I like to think I'm writing them well enough to develop. Someone reassure me... anyone?**

**Did anyone see the new live action reenactment in the "I Should Have Never Gone Ziplining" episode! WASN'T STAN HOT! WASN'T KYLE THE CUTEST THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN! WASN'T CARTMAN LIKE THE BEST FUCKING ACTOR EVER! NO SERIOUSLAH! AND WASN'T KENNY FUCKING HOT AS WELL! AIWEHOFSIHDFKAHJFKDSJF MY BABIES AKJHFOAIEJFSLDKJF!**

**Sorry... fangirl moment there... I'll behave.**


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